My take on Sachertorte
I don’t usually bake. Where I come from, conditors serve a three year apprenticeship and we tend to leave these things to the professionals. However, tomorrow is John’s birthday and I haven’t gotten him a present (no, he can’t have my 512 DisGo pen-drive!). He’s also expected to bring a cake to the office. So, being based in Britain, I have little choice but try and muddle through
I settled on Sachertorte (or an approximation thereof) the famous rich, dark chocolate cake of Vienna. The ‘recipe’ I eventually followed was cobbled together from various websites and turned out to be half the quantity of cake mix and twice the quantity of icing that I actually needed. Still, it was enough for a small, round tin and a thickly coated finish. Maybe next time I’ll follow one of the more tedious recipes which seemed to give better quantities (but, oddly, used far fewer eggs).
Base6 eggs, separated*; 150g sugar; 100g finest dark chocolate; 100g plain flour; 35g cornflour; pinch baking powder (just to make sure, but don’t use too much!); 100g butter; few drops almond essence.
Put a pot of water to simmer and have ready a bowl which fits smugly on top, for the chocolate. Prepare a whisk and line a small round cake tin with oiled, greaseproof paper (cut to fit on bottom and around). Pre-heat oven to 170°C.
Beat the butter with 100g of the sugar until pale and fluffy and gradually add the yolks. In a separate bowl, beat the eggwhites until they form soft peaks then add the remaining 50g sugar and beat until stiff. Melt chocolate* over steam. Fold the chocolate, then the meringue into the yolk mix with a large metal spoon. Gradually add the sifted flours. Pour into tin and bake for 15 minutes with the oven door ajar and another 50-60 min with the door closed.
Keep the cake in the tin and cool upside down for 30min, then invert and cool completely.
Filling150g apricot jam; 1 tbsp water; squeeze of lemon juice
Melt and brush all over the sponge.(If the top of the sponge has risen and cracked, cut it off and if desired cut half-way through and spread jam in the middle, then reassemble)
*DecorationsRose leaves and petals; eggwite (from base recipe); caster sugar; chocolate
It is convenient to use some of the chocolate from the sponge mixture. In this case, keep back 1/3 of the amount and grate or break into small pieces. Take the molten chocolate off the heat and add the solid chocolate. This will keep it liquid for longer and it remains pliable, but it will melt very quickly when handled (keep in fridge and use chilled forceps). Dip the underside of the rose leaves into the mix or apply chocolate with a small brush and leave to set at room temperature. Peel off carefully (chill briefly if desired, but don’t set in fridge).
Paint the petals with a little eggwhite and shake over caster sugar through a tea strainer. Leave to dry.
Icing120g butter; 3 tsp strong coffee; 100g dark chocolate (50% cocoa or more)
Melt over steam, cool and pour over cake; smooth with a palette knife. Leave to set partly before attaching decorations.
Well— that was the idea at least.
I don’t know who started the rumour that you mustn’t get any trace of yolk or even fingerprints into your eggwhite bowl if you want your meringue to be stiff. It’s an old wife’s tale. For starters, many chefs separate their eggs by emptying the whole thing into the bowl and fishing the yolk out with their fingers (or catching it on the way down). I learnt the traditional way (catching the yolk between the two halves of the shell) and am pretty good at it —or was, for the inevitable accident happened on my sixth egg. I must have been out of practice; I used to separate two dozen eggs quite easily in this way. But while specks of yolk can be easily removed from the whites with a piece of shell (it’s an affinity thing), once a proper disaster happens it is true: the meringue won’t stiffen. Instead, when you return the sloppy mixture to the fridge after beating the hell out of it, the stiffened eggwite will separate out and float on the runny residue like a fluffy island. I scooped this up and used it as intended for the meringue mixture, then tipped the remaining liquid into the yolk and sugar mix (to which the butter hadn’t been added yet, perhaps it was premonition) and beat for a few minutes over steam. This is how sponge cake is traditionally made: whole egg, beaten with sugar over steam until it is pale and leaves traces, then fold in butter and flour. It worked, and at least I’m not back in the restaurant where they made us whisk everything by hand, so the disaster didn’t matter too much.
The original recipe for Sachertorte is sealed in a vault in Vienna, but one of the secret ingredients may be a dash of coffee in the chocolate glaze. Coffee is often added to dark chocolate mouse to bring out the bittersweet taste.
The icing proved a problem, because it is also a secret. The one Austrian recipe I found used butter/chocolate icing which is tasty (and rich!) but easily damaged. Americans use corn syrup which is great, but not available here. The English tried with syrup and one website eventually recommended Tate Lyle Golden Syrup which works (guey but sturdy fudge icing), but doesn’t taste right. I did not try the traditional chocolate glacé icing because I could not scale it down for my experiments and I was running low on chocolate. So I went with the butter icing.
Before use, let the icing cool to between 28-30°C—get the temperature wrong and it will either be too thin and run off or it will form bubbles and lumps and not flatten properly. Several coats of thin icing work better than an attempt with too viscous a mass. My last coat was too viscous and the cake ended up looking like the wifey-amateur effort it is. Not even rose petals could disguise it, but then I don’t have to deliver a professional result—that just looks as if I’ve cheated!
Even if the cake does not survive the journey to the office, it will taste great. Coming to think of it, I could stick my little kiddy-bike in the back of John’s car, then I could come with him, holding up the cake on the way and cycle back home. It’s downhill all the way. But I’m glad I didn’t pick conditor as a profession. You couldn’t pay me enough to do this for a living!
Time takenCookbook/website recipe: 1h prep plus 1 h bake, or something like that.
In practice: 6h.
P.S. Serve with plenty of whipped cream.
Tags: 'Round the World Recipes, Tag Index
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