Belgian chocolate pound cake also know as the Waterloo of my detox

Woe betide me for all is lost! All is lost on the detox front that is. And I was doing so well!

Yes­ter­day was a though day, with end­less hunger pangs and a headache that made me want to put a bul­let in my brains. But today I actu­ally awoke refreshed and feel­ing like I had had a really really good night’s rest instead of the usual 4hr30 wake-up call from a cry­ing tod­dler, fol­lowed by the usual 2 hours serv­ing as a tod­dler punch­ing ball, which is stan­dard pro­ce­dure when the eldest sleeps in our bed. 

So this morn­ing I assumed that all would go swim­mingly. I was actu­ally look­ing for­ward to my day: the eldest was at school and the youngest at home with me since she needs to go to the doc­tor for her 15-month check up. We would go shop­ping, go to the checkup, we would play and we would bake a cake. And yes you guessed right, that is where it all went wrong.

The shop­ping went well,  we played well, she ate like a champ (I’m hon­estly think­ing of chang­ing that kid’s name to  ‘Bot­tom­less Well’, she eats more than a starved hyena) and then we baked a cake. A cake con­tain­ing choco­late. Yes, after three days on a diet that only a Bud­dhist monk would con­sider I was going to come in the vicin­ity of that dark, sweet temp­ta­tion now as choco­late. Hon­estly, what was I think­ing! Lord, did I go blonde overnight or what! (sorry blondes who read this, you are the excep­tion that con­firms the rule).

The cake mak­ing began at is nor­mal pace, me get­ting every­thing out of the cup­board and n°2 div­ing in said cup­board to ‘help mama’ : ‘Yes honey, mama needs help but not in that way, put down the cookie cut­ters, we are going the make a cake today and no I don’t need the bread­pud­ding mold either. Thank you dear. Oh, what is that, my spat­ula! Ah yes, I’m sure the cake will be bet­ter now that you have been lick­ing it.’ The usual kind of messy bak­ing with a 15 month year old. When I started mea­sur­ing the sugar, things went down­hill: n°2, who is teething (oh utter joy!) decided that it would be far more inter­est­ing if she could fol­low the bak­ing process on mama’s hip instead of play­ing with cookie cut­ters.  So I ended up mak­ing most of the cake like this:

 

(Note: this is obliv­i­ously not my kitchen but my hall­way, say ‘hey’ every­one to n°2 and I am look­ing up like that because the hall­way mir­ror hangs in really odd angle — at least when you lit­tle taller than your aver­age dwarf– for pic­ture tak­ing). Baby on the hip and mix­ing bat­ter at the same time! Who says I can’t juggle?!

But then the inevitable hap­pened: I had melted the choco­late and out of habit I put out my fin­ger and took a lick. And then another. And then another. And then the real­iza­tion hit me like a ton of bricks that  ******* (Dutch curse which can­not be fea­tured here or the bloggy Gods will kick my ass) I was on a detox and I wasn’t sup­posed to be doing this! But alas, the choco­late had done its work. I was lost in a sea of but­ter and choco­late infused long­ing. So I also tastes the bat­ter. Of course you could argue that I had to taste the bat­ter. I mean, I had to make sure that the cake would be ok, bad bat­ter = bad cake. Right…?

So it is with sad­ness in my hearth that I announce to you that my detox attempt has failed. I will now go and hide my shame behind a steam­ing mug of hot choco­late and leave you with the tempter of my faith : the choco­late mar­ble pound cake.

Ingre­di­ents:

225gr  or 7.9 oz of butter

225gr or 7.9 oz of sugar

225gr or 7.9 oz of flour ( I use spe­cial cake flour)

4 large eggs

150 gr or 5.2 oz of dark choco­late ( I obvi­ously use Bel­gian chocolate)

a tea­spoon of bak­ing powder

a tea­spoon of bak­ing soda

How to

Make sure that the eggs, but­ter and other ingre­di­ents are at room tem­per­a­ture. The but­ter should be soft.

Start by cream­ing the but­ter: stir it with a wooden spoon or a KitchenAid (or a Ken­wood) until it is creamy and soft.

Add the sugar and stir until the two are combined

Crack the eggs and add all four of them to the butter/sugar mix­ture. Mix

Add the flour, bak­ing pow­der and bak­ing soda and fold in the sugar/butter/eggs mixture.

Your bat­ter should look like this:

Creamy and unc­tu­ous. If it is not creamy enough you may add some milk, if the bat­ter is to runny sim­ply add some flour.

Melt the choco­late. You will have been told to do this au bain marie (over boil­ing water), for­get about that, just bang that sucker in the microwave and let it do what it does. Works just as well, but don’t leave the choco­late to long.

Now this is impor­tant: while the choco­late melts pour HALF of the bat­ter in the cake mold. The other half stays in the  mix­ing bowl (for now).

When the choco­late has melted add it to the bat­ter in the mix­ing bowl. Stir it until bat­ter and choco­late have become one and then gen­tly pour it over the bat­ter in the cake mold.

It doesn’t have to be divided evenly, I encour­age you to be a lit­tle bit sloppy even. You’ll see why.

Now take a spat­ula (which I have obvi­ously cleaned, no baby slob­ber will ruin my cake thanky­ou­very­much) and fold the two bat­ters into one:

(This is an excep­tion­ally bad pic­ture , but you try tak­ing a pic­ture one-handed with a baby attached to your leg)

To fold the bat­ters pro­ceeds as fol­lows: insert the spat­ula in the mold, lift up some of the bat­ter turn the spat­ula so that the bat­ter which on the bot­tom of the mold is on top. Repeat with the rest of the bat­ter. (Please tell me this is mak­ing sense, I’m so used to doing this that I don’t think twice about, but I now real­ize that ‘fold­ing bat­ter’ might sound like Chi­nese to some).

The of your fold­ing labours should be some­thing like this:

 

Now put the cake in a 180C° /356 F° oven for about an hour to an hour and a half (depends on your oven really). To judge if the cake is ready stick a knife or knit­ting nee­dle in it, if the nee­dle or knife comes out clean the oven has done a good job.

Eat and enjoy!

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