Two Times the Delish

I loved it after the first bite during my first visit. I loved it even more after the second bite during my second. And it had nothing to do with the thesis being completed -- though that did make the moment that much sweeter.

Chocolate has been one of the motivations for me and some of my classmates as we pressed forward together to achieve our thesis goals this semester. With different individuals, I would offer a day of chocolate delight once a chapter, a draft, or a final copy was turned in. With May 3rd as the official deadline for our completed projects, the past few weeks have been full of thesis celebrations.

The one destination of choice: Masse's Pastries.
The chocolate dessert of choice: the Chocolate Ruffle Torte.

I first sampled this beautifully decadent dessert two weeks back as Theresa and I celebrated the official turning in of her project. This study break was her gift to me as a thank you for my encouragement and help through the semester's ordeal. And what a gift it was - literally wrapped in chocolate.

As is my typical approach when sampling desserts at a new place, I begin by sharing with the clerk my dark chocolate preferences and asking for a recommendation. At this local North Berkeley bakery on Shattuck, near Vine, the Chocolate Ruffle Torte was the suggestion. A dark chocolate cake with chocolate bavarian cream encased in dark chocolate and topped with dark chocolate fans made this the perfect option for me. And after one bite, it was confirmed.

Not only was this dessert recommendation beautiful to behold, appearing as a chocolate present, the rich chocolate flavors were a culinary masterpiece for the palate. The dark chocolate cake which anchored this dessert was moist and mildly chocolatey. This subtle quality highlighted the semi-sweet chocolate bavarian cream on top which balanced the bittersweet chocolate which encased this chocolate gift. The cracking of the chocolate case revealed a hallelujah symphony for the chocoholic as it sang of pure delight.

It was rich, indulgent, and downright delish. It was heavenly - a gift of "theobrama," the genus name of the chocolate tree, which literally means "food of the gods".

I initially thought the filling was a ganache, but learned from the clerk that it was actually a bavarian cream. To be honest, I do not fully understand the difference between a ganache and a bavarian cream.

Ganache is basically chocolate and cream which can be tweaked to create a truffle, glaze, frosting, mousse, tart, or drink as the proportions of the two ingredients are adjusted. More cream makes ganache thinner and lighter, and more chocolate makes it thicker and denser. Chocolate bavarian cream adds eggs, gelatin, sugar, and sometimes milk to the chocolate and cream, and is more like a custardy pudding which can be used as a cake or pie filling.

The filling in Masse's Chocolate Ruffle Torte was a bit confusing as it was denser than typical chocolate Bavarian cream and lighter than basic ganache. It was somewhere in between. In any case, it worked as the dense fluffy texture (or fluffy dense texture) and semi-sweet chocolate taste complemented the cake and bittersweet crackle of the chocolate shell. It was a chocolate trio made in heaven.

Dense and delicious, all the chocolate layers of this torte were also very rich and heavy. After enjoying about half, Theresa had had her fill, and offered the remainder to me. How could I resist? Believing also that wasting good chocolate is a sin, I polished off mine and continued on to finish off hers. Pure indulgence. Though I had a chocolate buzz for the next few hours, I was in chocolate ecstasy.

2 weeks later when it was time to celebrate the official turning in of Amelia's thesis, we headed to Masse's and I again ordered the Chocolate Ruffle Torte. Though the other desserts sounded delightful as the clerk described them, I knew what I really wanted. It was almost a no brainer. The Chocolate Ruffle Torte is simply wrapped chocolate perfection.

I savored each decadent bite once again and enjoyed the moment with a good friend. A perfect end to our thesis writing semester. My only disappointment - Amelia polished off the chocolate on her plate and didn't leave me any leftovers!

There was no better way to wrap up a semester of hard work than spending time with good friends enjoying the Chocolate Ruffle Torte at Masse's Bakery. Both are true gifts of God.

Overall assessment: 4.8 cacao beans (out of 5)
The Chocolate Ruffle Torte at Masse's Pastries is simply a beautifully wrapped dessert of intense chocolate layers. If you love dark chocolate and crave rich chocolate desserts, this is a heavenly experience which is not for the milk chocolate at heart. It is bold but balanced, dense but delightful, rich but right on the money for $4.95.
(review date: 2010_05-06)

More Mousse-Adventures in Baking

There was something about the simplicity of having only three ingredients that intrigued me. But after another chocolate baking experience that left me scratching my head and asking, "what went wrong?" I think I've learned my chocolate "study bake" lesson -- Alice does know best.

With the thesis out of my hands and in the hands of readers, and before diving into another round of papers, I decided to rest my weary brain by breaking with some baking.

My mom had a solid 7-oz. milk chocolate Hershey kiss which needed to be used, and on-line, I found a simple recipe for Milk Chocolate Mousse cupcakes that looked easy and required the exact amount of chocolate I needed to use. Stepping away from my beloved Alice and her Bittersweet recipes yet again, I thought this would be a breeze "study bake" with only 3 eggs, 1/8 cup plus 1 T flour, along with the 7-oz. of chocolate. Little did I know.

My mom wasn't sure when she received this enormous chocolate kiss as a gift. It had been sitting around for a while, and I wondered if it had "bloomed."

Chocolate "blooms" when it develops a gray appearance. This discoloration does not indicate spoilage but is only a cosmetic effect which occurs as the cocoa butter in the chocolate separates, floats to the surface, and crystallizes. Bloom doesn't effect taste; it just doesn't look very pretty.

When I unwrapped the chocolate kiss, I was pleasantly surprised to find that it still had that brown Hershey kiss color. I was expecting it to be discolored, which is the reason I thought to use it, but nonetheless, into the make-shift double boiler it went.

Now if this was an Alice recipe, it would probably have read -"melt chopped chocolate in a double boiler." But since this was NOT an Alice recipe, and since I am still an ignorant amateur in baking with chocolate, I placed the solid chunk of chocolate in the double boiler, over simmering water.

Imagine Jeopardy music if you will, because it took a LONG time for those 7 ounces of chocolate to melt. It wasn't until a few minutes into this melting ordeal that I realized that chopping it first would have cut the time down considerably.

The Family Circle recipe for these Milk Chocolate Mousse Cupcakes indicates that prep time is 5 minutes, with total time being 19 minutes. I didn't set an official time, but it took at least 10 minutes to get the chocolate melted! So much for a short and simple "study bake". Oh Alice, I miss you.

As the block melted down, I kept expecting the milk chocolate to become more liquidity, similar to the dark chocolate melting I have grown accustomed to. Unfortunately, it never achieved that consistency. Now if this were an Alice recipe, she would have mentioned that milk chocolate melts differently than dark and because of the milk fat, doesn't attain the smooth satiny flow I've grown accustomed to working with.

After a long while of continuous stirring so as to not burn the chocolate, I figured this is the way this chocolate will be and I decided to continue on with the next recipe step. "Stir eggs and flour into melted chocolate with wire whisk or wooden spoon." Sounds easy enough.

However, as I incorporated the eggs into the melted chocolate, I began to see yellow and quickly realized the eggs were beginning to cook. The chocolate was too hot! If this were an Alice recipe, she would have indicated the proper chocolate temperature and I would have stuck in my thermometer and added the eggs at just the right time. But no.

Instead of looking like a cupcake batter, my concoction was beginning to look like chocolate scrambled eggs! I quickly added the flour and continued to furiously whisk. I don't have a picture of what this looked like, because I needed to keep beating the ingredients before the eggs really cooked up solid. Who knows what would have happened if I stopped to take a picture?

With the chocolate cooled and ingredients incorporated, I laded the lumpy yellowy batter into the lined cupcake tins, and baked at 325 degrees. For baking time, the recipe says, "12 minutes or until sides of cupcakes are set but centers are still liquid." After 10 minutes, I checked and realized I had no idea what I was looking for. How do I know the sides are set and centers are liquidy? Alice would have provided better indication on how to determine doneness. I decided to simply pull them out of the oven after 12 minutes and let these cupcakes be what they will be.

As soon as the suggested 10 minute cooling period was done, I grabbed one, peeled off the liner, and broke it open. To my disappointment, no liquid. And after a first bite, I don't know why the chocolate custard taste of this cupcake surprised me. This warm dense and doughy cupcake was definitely more egg-like than mousse-like in both consistency and taste. There was nothing light, airy, or fluffy about this Milk Chocolate "Mousse" Cupcake.

It wasn't bad. Yet it wasn't very good either. It was a bit odd and I was disappointed. And as my mom said, "They are sweet." And sweet they were, especially in comparison to all the bittersweet chocolate desserts I have been attempting.

I am definitely learning my lesson. Alice knows best. It is back to bittersweet baking I go. Or maybe, rather than baking, I'll just go back to eating and reviewing chocolate. There are definitely less disappointments in that department.

"Study Bake" Brownies

I had been waiting for the right moment to make them. With no papers pressing, the morning sun gone, and rain clouds moving in, the afternoon seemed right to take a study break and stretch my emerging chocolate baking skills with Alice Medrich's recipe for Classic Unsweetened-Chocolate Brownies from her book, Bittersweet.

A friend suggested I call my "study break bake" a "study bake," and this round was definitely a study in baking brownies as I needed to adjust the amount of ingredients because of the chocolate I would be using.

A few months back, my mom received an 85% cacao, 3.5 oz bar of Valrhona. A bit too bitter to eat as a bar, this very excellent chocolate needed an excellent recipe to showcase it. The problem: I could find no recipe that uses an 85% bar. Recipes are based on the standard 58%, 66%, or 70% blend of chocolate liquor with the requisite sugar to total 100%. Alice's book makes it clear that stronger chocolates can affect the taste and texture of recipes in unexpected ways because of the chocolate and sugar percentages, thus other ingredients need to be adjusted appropriately.

Alice writes, "The effect of increasing liquor and decreasing sugar is exaggerated because manufacturers usually add less extra cocoa butter to chocolate when they increase the total amount of chocolate liquor (which has cocoa butter in it), so the amount of nonfat dry cocoa solids increase more than the fat as the percentage of chocolate goes up. The effect of using a higher-percentage chocolate is a little like adding cocoa powder to a recipe and subtracting sugar at the same time" (p. 345).

Get that? That's why this was definitely a "study bake" brownie. I needed to calculate the decreased amounts of sugar and butter and the increased amount of chocolate required for this recipe to compensate for the 85% bar. Add to this the fact that the recipe called for 4 oz. of chocolate, I only had one 3.5 oz bar, and I would make up the difference with the leftover 100% squares from the Chocolate Whiskey cake, it became a complicated little equation.

Given that brownies are always yummy as long as they are not totally overbaked and dry, I figured trying to calculate the adjusted amounts for brownies would be safer than attempting something else. And with the taste of brownie comfort still lingering on my palate as I now sit and blog, I think my inclinations were correct - for the most part - at least for taste.

The recipe called for 4 oz of unsweetened chocolate with 8 T (1 stick) butter and 1 1/4 cup sugar. In the appendix of Alice's book, she has guidelines for substituting 50-58%, 62-64%, 66%, and 70-72% for unsweetened (aka 100%) chocolate. No guidelines for substituting 85%, but doing the calculated estimations, I decided to go for 3.5 oz 85% + 1.5 oz. unsweetened, with the full stick of butter and 1 cup of sugar.

After the non-Alice whiskey chocolate cake recipe, I was glad to return to my chocolate diva. I am thankful for the little tidbits she provides to assure the newbie baker I be that I am on the right track.

For example, though I now feel comfortable melting chocolate, this recipe required a slightly different approach. Because all the ingredients would be added into the melted chocolate and butter, the mixture needed to be hot enough. How hot? "Hot enough that you want to remove your finger fairly quickly after dipping it in to test." Taste testing, I mean, temperature testing the chocolate with my finger was not only effective, it was fun, especially since I had the opportunity to lick off and sample the evidence a good 6 times until it was "just right."

After adding the 1 cup sugar, 1 t vanilla, and 1/4 t salt, then the two eggs, one at time, the 1/2 cup flour came next as the batter truly appeared "smooth, glossy." As it began to "come away from the sides of the bowl," just as Alice said it would, I continued to beat with my rubber spatula for 1-2 minutes as instructed. The picture doesn't really reflect it, but I was encouraged to see the batter in my bowl behaving just as Alice said it should. It came from the sides like a big brown glob of liquid silly putty. It was cool.

Because I've learned that my mom's oven is a bit hotter than Alice's, less time is needed. Rather than 20 minutes at 400 degrees, after about 18 minutes, the brownies looked "dry" on the surface and began "to pull away from the sides of the pan," as Alice said they would, indicating they were done. The inserted toothpick was more "gooey," than "quite gooey" when it came out from the center, but the brownies smelled warm and wonderful as the tray went into the ice bath to cool per Alice's instructions.

I probably should have let the brownies cool a bit longer than I did before trying to cut them, but Alice didn't give a time and I was anxious to sample. There's just something about a warm brownie (with walnuts - about 2/3 cup) on a cold and wet day that brings an assuring embrace of comfort.

Though the taste was a bit sweeter than I expected, there was a subtle bittersweet bite that created a wonderfully complex chocolate symphony which is hard to describe in words. The depth of flavor is probably due to the quality of chocolate used. It's sweet - yet not too sweet. It has a bittersweet bite - yet not too bitey. Though there was no coffee or alcohol, there was a rich sophistication. The walnuts created a wonderful balancing crunch to the gooey brownie texture, and stood up to the strong chocolate tones with its bold nutty accents.

While I really like the taste of these brownies (which are definitely better than the boxed ones I've made), I have 3 issues with how they came out. I don't know if it was me, the substitutions I made, or heaven forbid, Alice's recipe, but...

(1) The brownies were a bit oily -- not a bad oily, just a bit oily. I should have went with my original calculations of deleting 1/2 teaspoon of butter rather than being lazy and using the full stick. I think the extra 1/2 teaspoon plus the oily nature of walnuts were a bit too much.
(2) The brownies were crumbly and simply did not hold together well when I cut them.
(3) And as I cut them, they stuck to the foil liner which Alice said to use to get the brownies out of the pan onto a board to cut. She said foil or parchment. I think parchment would have been a better choice.

Thus, if you can imagine, because these brownie were a bit oily, crumbly, and stuck, cutting them was a frustrating nightmare. The one good thing about it all is that the chocolatey mess, which stuck to the cut bits of foil and lay all over the cutting board, did give me an excuse to eat up all the crumbs and to delay the research for another paper. That, I thoroughly enjoyed.

Now it's back to the books.

Chocolate Whiskey Cake

With a mid-term completed, the thesis in the hands of the second reader, and spring break here, I decided to celebrate by attempting a Chocolate Whiskey Cake in honor of St. Patrick's Day and American Chocolate Week. Unfortunately, Alice Medrich's book, Bittersweet (my chocolate bible) doesn't have any chocolate and liquor recipes that seem Irish, so I searched on-line for a cake that contains the ingredients I have and embraces the flavors I enjoy. The Whiskey-Soaked Dark Chocolate Bundt Cake (see left) adapted from the New York Times by Molly Wizenberg seemed to fit the bill.

I admit I felt like I was betraying my Alice by consulting a new chocolate diva. But through each step of this baking journey, Alice was constantly on my mind as I wondered, "WWAD? - What Would Alice Do?" I missed my Alice, whose instructions were always so clear, guaranteeing success. Molly's instructions... well, you'll see.

Originally intended to be a bundt cake using 5 oz of unsweetened chocolate, I cut the recipe in half to make a loaf because I only had one 4 oz 100% cacao bar. I didn't have any other unsweetened bars, and besides, with other recipes to be tried, a full bundt cake felt like it would be chocolate dessert overload requiring me to run more than the 21 miles I already run to keep my weight in check.

There are certain baking skills I feel like I'm slowing getting. Greasing and flouring pans, and melting chocolate are two of them. Skills which require use of the mixer, however, are not yet my forte, especially as I use my mom's old electric hand-held. No stand mixers here. It's still cumbersome for me as I try to hold the bowl and the mixer, scrape down the sides, add the ingredients, and try to not make too much of a mess in the process.

As I began the first part of the mixing, my initial attempt to "beat butter until fluffy" created globs that stuck to the blade things (whatever they're called) as I started it on "low." While Alice would've told me the speed, "high," "medium," or "low," Molly simply said to use an electric mixer. As I regrouped and switched to "medium," the butter began to loosen up and fluff. Or at least I think it was fluffed enough before the sugar, eggs, vanilla, baking soda, and melted chocolate were added. While Alice would've given a description of how long to beat and what the ingredients in the bowl should look like with each addition, Molly's instructions were a bit vague. Thus I kept wondering: Am I overbeating? Am I underbeating? Is this fluffy enough? Should I go longer? Shorter? Faster? Slower? WWAD?

Luckily Molly gave a few more instructions on the final steps as the flour and the coffee/whiskey mixture were added in thirds, and beat on "low." She notes that the final batter "may seem like there's too much liquid, but don't worry; it's okay." I sure hope it will be okay. The final product would be the tell tale sign, but as the smell of fresh mocha began to fill the air as the coffee/whiskey mixture blended into the chocolate-butter mix in the bowl, at least it was smelling okay. Luckily, I only had one incident of flying batter before everything was blended into a too liquidy batter which then needed to be scraped into the pan and baked at 325 degree.

For a bundt pan, Molly says, "1 hour and 10 minutes." For loaf panS (note the plural), she says, "start checking after 55 minutes." What about one loaf pan? I decided to check at 45 minutes, and I am glad I did because the toothpick came out clean. It was done, and maybe just a bit overdone. I needed to wait and see.

After 15 minutes of cooling, I unmolded the cake and attempted to "sprinkle the warm cake with more whiskey." Molly says to do this by shaking one teaspoon over the cake. She used three teaspoons for the bundt. May be it's a skill but the shaking of my one teaspoon led to more whiskey glops than an even sprinkling on the cake. After three teaspooned attempts on my half recipe, I called it quits. This was not working. WWAD?

As the cake cooled, it began to sank. It wasn't looking so pretty. Even the garnished powdered sugar couldn't hide its flaws. Cutting into it, I saw more denseness than the fluffy bundt-like cake quality I was expecting.

Tasting it, I definitely enjoyed the whiskey with the chocolate. There was a nice subtle chocolate bite which the whiskey helped to enhance. Very nice. Yet, there was a subtle "done" taste undertone that was present - not burnt, but it tasted done. And the texture was also a bit off. Not dense, not fluffy, somewhere in between as the loaf flattened. Not pretty to look at unfortunately -- or may be that's how it's supposed to look. Molly doesn't say. (The texture does look a little like the bundt picture above, doesn't it?)

Hmmm... Did I not fluff something long enough? May be my mom's baking soda was too old so the cake didn't rise? May be my halfing the ingredients in the recipe messed something up? May it's the whiskey? Oh Alice, what would you do?

Though a little disappointed with the final outcome, I must admit my Whiskey Chocolate Cake is still rather yummy and addicting. Sidestepping the "done" taste, I do like the chocolate bite and how the whiskey pairs with but does not overpower it. The texture is odd, but it grows on you. As I am still learning the science in baking, this attempt at a cake becomes a nice tribute to St. Patrick, who is the patron saint of engineers. When it comes to chocolate, however, it is back to "the book" for me - Alice's book, as bittersweet brownies are in line for my next "study break bake." Stay tuned.

Looks can be Deceiving

To be honest, I've been a bit disappointed with the quality of chocolate desserts I've sampled around Berkeley. Nothing has been stellar. Nothing has stood out. Nothing has enticed me to return and indulge again. Nothing, that is, until Cioccolata Di Vino, a Dessert and Wine Cafe, on Shattuck near Hearst.

While most of the places I've checked out have been cafes or bakeries, Cioccolata Di Vino is a restaurant which makes their own desserts, and features Italian-influenced cuisine with a "tantalizing menu of desserts and savory small plates, complemented by our carefully selected wine list." The atmosphere is designed to "create a warm environment that will foster social interaction and communication among friends, loved ones, and neighbors over delicious food and wonderful wine." Opened late afternoon through the evening, it became the perfect place to meet up for dessert with some friends who are preparing for marriage.

Checking their menu and website before meeting up, I knew this place looked promising as I looked forward to something dense, dark, and decadent. My plan was to order "Torta al Cioccolato Liquefatto." There is something about Italian named desserts that simple ooze with indulgence, but the description of this torta as a "warm, luscious molten lava cake topped with fresh whipped cream" also helped my dessert drool to begin.

One of the other chocolate desserts I had considered was the "Torta di Cioccolato e Polenta," described as a "chocolate polenta cake with finely chopped almonds, topped with fresh whipped cream and sliced almonds." Thus, I was very relieved when my friends decided to order that along with "Tortina di Limone," a "bright and flavorful lemon tart served with lemon thyme-infused whipped cream." They also ordered a vanilla hot chocolate.

I was rather disappointed when our desserts arrived. Service was not very good, and it was confirmed when my molten lava arrived with melted cream spewing over the sides. It had been sitting for awhile before arriving at our table. It simply did not look very appealing.

I have learned however that with desserts, appearances can be deceiving. Some of the most beautiful cakes I've seen have been some of the worst cakes I've tasted. And this melted mess ended up being one of the most seductive chocolate desserts I've had since my travels in New Zealand and Australia earlier this year. (I've not yet blogged about them but you can see the pictures here on Flickr.)

Though whip cream was literally everywhere, when my spoon cut open the cake, a rich dark warm chocolate oozed out. The outer layer of the cake had a bit of crisp crunch that was a nice offset in texture to the moist bittersweet cake which lay beneath and the chocolate liquid within which seemed to keep oozing. There was a gentle chocolate bite to the cake which provided a wonderful balance to the semi-sweetened lava center. It was warm and luscious, and I savored each bite. I was sad when it was gone. If it were not for the fact that I was sitting in a nice Italian restaurant, I probably would have picked up the plate to lick it clean. This was a divine chocolate experience.

While the Torta al Cioccolato Liquefatto oozed with rich chocolate indulgence, the Torta di Cioccolato e Polenta crunched with a unique chocolate pleasure. I've never had chocolate in polenta before but it was very good. There is a quality to a corn cake, which gives it a bit of a grainy edge but that texture pairs well with the bittersweet taste of the chocolate and the crunch of the almonds. I had a small taste, but would have loved to indulge in a little more.

In fact, I would love to indulge a lot more in both the lava and polenta cakes. And while we're at it, let's throw in the "hot chocolate" which is a beautiful drinking chocolate with a dark bittersweet bite, as well as the "Tortina di Cioccolato e Mandorle," their chocolate and almond tart which we did not order. Cioccolata Di Vino is definitely a place to which I am returning. Currently it is the site for the "our thesis is done celebration" I'm having with a classmate who gave up chocolate for lent. Her plan is to finish the thesis by Easter so we can indulge. Trust me, we will.

And in case you're wondering about the "Tortina di Limone," it too was a winner in my book. Tart and tangy, the fresh lemon sang loud and strong in this number.

I have a feeling that with most any dessert on the menu, you won't be disappointed. Of course these dessert delicacies at $6.95 are a bit more expensive than the ones in the local cafes, but they are worth it. They may look like a melted mess, and the service may not be so great (it took forever to get water refilled and to finally get our check), but the experience and the depth of flavors make up for it. With good friends and good food, you really can't go wrong at Cioccolata Di Vino. Simply sit and savor the experience. Just don't be in a rush to go.

Overall assessment: 4.7 cacao beans (out of 5)
If you're looking for a good dessert, I believe this is THE place in Berkeley. For those who like their chocolate desserts full of chocolate and not other sugary fillers, their chocolate selections offer deep rich flavors and texture . Yet for a place called "Cioccolata," I would have expected more than just three chocolate desserts. In spite, this is a place you'll want to return with friends to enjoy good food and fellowship.
(review date: 2010_03-12)

Missing the Mississippi Mud

From the thesis to a mid-term, the semester presses on. I wanted to find a good spot to plant myself for a few hours of study this week (okay, it was cramming), and while in search of a new spot, I decided I should also sample a new dessert to review on the blog in celebration of American Chocolate Week. Recently voted "Best Place to Study" by the Berkeley Press, Berkeley Espresso on the corner of Shattuck and Hearst seemed like a good option. And besides, it also has free wifi.

Though the place was full, there were tables outside and the weather was warming. Unfortunately, they had a limited chocolate dessert selection. My options were either a brownie, which looked like a basic boring brownie, or a piece of their Mississippi Mud Cake. Thick and dense with a rich layer of chocolate on top, it was an easy decision.

Since I had never heard of a "Mississippi Mud Cake" before, I decided to ask the server about the cake, what was in it, where it came from. He did not know. He just said that they get their desserts from a variety of places and they just sell them. I've discovered this as an unfortunate trend. Most servers in cafes, where desserts are not made on site, have no idea what they are actually serving. No praise if it's good, but also no blame if it's bad.

In many ways it was good I did not know what a Mississippi Mud Cake was before partaking, because if I did, I might have been disappointed. There appeared to be nothing really special about this dessert. It was a dense cake-like brownie, which was rather dry in texture, topped with a rich thick layer of chocolate frosting. Though there was a bit of a sugary grit in the frosting, it was nice and worked well with the cake forming a sweet chocolate combination. A little on the sweeter side for me, but that was probably nothing in comparison to how sweet a "real" Mississippi Mud Cake would have been.

"A 70s-era treat that features a topping of marshmallow, chocolate ganache, and pecans atop a rich, dense-dark chocolate cake" is how King Arthur Flour describes it.

For Southern Living it is "a luscious combination of chocolate, pecans, and marshmallows."

"A fudgy brownie-like base is topped with marshmallow creme and a nutty frosting," is the description from Taste of Home.

And as Paula Deen, the queen of Southern Cuisine describes it, "Mississippi Mud Cake is serious comfort food, my friends. You can sink into that deep, chocolate-y mud, and those sweet and mushy marshmallows, and feel safe. I could eat a whole cake when I was hidin' under my bed."








Now if you're paying attention to the descriptions above, and compare the photo of my Mississippi Mud Cake with the ones above, you'll notice a theme I've highlighted. First off, there's no marshmallows on mine. There's also no dark "muddy" quality, and where are the nuts? In comparison to the recipes and photos of a real Mississippi Mud Cake, what I was served was definitely lacking. Don't you think?

Compared to what it should be, the Mississippi Mud Cake at Berkeley Espresso definitely misses the mark. If it was simply called a basic "chocolate cake," you'd have a winner. But if you're expecting a deep, dark, gooey, marshmallowy, chocolate-y mud with a crunch, you're sure to be disappointed. While I'm not a marshmallow fan, the dark fudgy nuttiness that is to be a quality of this southern cake is definitely up my taste bud alley. I feel a bit gypped.

But it's all for the best, because if I did have a slice of Paula Deen's "Mississippi Mud Cake," I'd probably be wired with a sugar rush before even cracking open a book, then crashed in bed a few hours later. Instead, I got some studying done and enjoyed a nice big block of "chocolate cake," which in its own way is "serious comfort food."

Overall assessment: 3 cacao beans (out of 5)
If you're looking for a traditional Mississippi Mud Cake, you're not gonna find it at Berkeley Espresso. But if a big hunk of chocolate cake is what you're after, you'll find it. And though it won't be the best you've ever had, it definitely is not the worst.
(review date: 2010_03-15)

Chocolate on the Crepevine

We had to delay the celebration a week because of scheduling. Thesis writing can be a bear, and thus, any goal reached is a cause to pause and to par-tay! My friend Amelia was having a bit of a motivation melt down, so I began to encourage her and to set before her a chocolate reward as a treat upon reaching her goal. When her outline was sent to her advisor and my final chapter was rewritten, we decided we would celebrate. I was disappointed when she had to postpone, so when the day finally came, I was more than ready to enjoy some good chocolate dessert.

We decided on Crepevine as she and Helen, another friend from school, had never been there, and neither had had crepes for a while. I used to hang at the Crepevine in San Francisco but I had never been to this one on Shattuck, so I thought it would be a good spot for our festivities.

If Crepevine offered a crepe with chocolate and not Nutella, I would have ordered one like both Helen and Amelia did. With no chocolate on their crepe menu, I decided to try one of their chocolate cakes, which included a chocolate bundt cake with a rich chocolate ganache glaze (which looked very tempting), and two layered cakes (which looked decadent), neither however were labeled. A mystery.

Not sure which way to indulge, I decided to ask the server for a suggestion, something I often do. After sharing my preference for a dark and dense chocolate cake, she seemed to steer me away from the bundt, and suggested I sample the newest cake from their supplier, Artisan Foods of Berkeley, so I did, especially since the other chocolate layered cake had a raspberry filling.

Though I have enjoyed some really good berry and chocolate desserts, this flavor pairing is not my primary preference. It is true that there is something about the slightly tart taste in a berry that enhances the flavor of a good dark chocolate. That is why red wine and dark chocolate go well together. The tannins in the wine and the chocolate bring out the best in each other. In a chocolate cake however - for me, at least - it's really all about the chocolate - deep, dark, and dense.

When my slice arrived, the pinkish cream on top should have been my first clue that something was up with this cake. With my first bite, I knew that something was not right in chocolate cake land. There was an odd strawberry taste that was definitely present. It's not that it was unpleasant; it was simply not anticipated and odd.

Breaking the cake down, I discovered 4 different taste components. (1) There was the strawberry flavored whipped filling which had a weird waxy texture and a manufactured too sweet strawberry taste. On its own, it was not very pleasant. (2) There was the cake with its dark chocolate flavor and color. I wouldn't have minded enjoying the cake on it's own because it was very good. (3) There was a wonderful chocolate ganache glaze on top. A bit shiny, but not too sweet, which is how I like it. And finally (4) there were little semi-sweet chocolate chips on the back edge of the cake which provided a wonderful extra bite in flavor and crunch in texture. It was a nice addition.

I scraped the big pink glob off the top, and settled into this experience. I admit that together all four of the different taste components did complement each other. It wasn't a bad slice of chocolate cake, yet if it wasn't for the funky strawberry cream, this would have been an excellent dessert. The three different chocolate elements were very nice. I imagine if I were to throw some chocolate chips on the bundt cake with its chocolate ganache, I would have scored a real winner. In spite the not so wonderful strawberry cream, the wonderful conversation and laughter made up for it, as we had a great time celebrating our thesis milestones.

Overall assessment: 3.5 cacao beans (out of 5)
Not a bad cake - but for me, not a great dessert as the manufactured strawberry cream was a major distraction. If you enjoy chocolate and berries, I suggest you select the one with the raspberry filling. If you prefer chocolate on chocolate, however, you'd do better with the chocolate bundt (and may be ask for some chocolate chips.)
(Review date: 2010_03-11)