Around My French Table (85 page)

Position the cake so that you've got a long side closest to you, and roll the cake up snugly in the towel. Allow the rolled-up cake to cool to room temperature.

TO MAKE THE FILLING:
Before you start, drain the blueberries—you want them to be as dry as possible. (Hold onto the syrup, it's a good sweetener for lemonade and sparkling water.)

Put the mascarpone in a bowl and sift or strain the confectioners' sugar over it. Gently whisk together, then stir in the vanilla. (Don't beat the mascarpone, or it will become too thick; just stir it to loosen it.)

Whip the cream in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment or in a large bowl with a hand mixer until it holds firm peaks. Using a rubber spatula, stir a scant quarter of the cream into the mascarpone, then gently fold in the rest. When the whipped cream is almost incorporated, add the berries and fold them in.

TO ASSEMBLE THE CAKE:
Unroll the cake, leaving it on the kitchen towel. Scoop the filling onto the cake, spreading it evenly and leaving an inch or so bare around the cake's perimeter. Using the towel to help you, gently lift and roll the cake, starting with the long side farthest from you and finishing so that the seam is on the bottom; you'll probably be able to roll the cake one and a half times. You've got a choice now: you can leave the cake in its towel wrapper and move it to a cake plate or cutting board later, or you can unwrap it and put it on the plate or board now. Whatever you decide, the cake should be refrigerated (if the cake is not in the towel, cover it) for at least 2 hours; longer is better.

Just before serving, cut the ragged ends off the cake, trimming them just far enough to expose the filling. (I use a long knife with wide wavy serrations.) Dust the top of the cake with confectioners' sugar, and off you go.

MAKES 8 TO 10 SERVINGS

SERVING
If you'd like, you can serve the cake with a berry coulis. Puree some blueberries in a blender or food processor with a little sugar or some of the leftover syrup; strain before using.

STORING
The blueberries and syrup can be prepared up to a day ahead. Covered, the roulade can be kept for up to 6 hours in the refrigerator. Just be certain to keep it away from food with strong odors.

BONNE IDÉE
Ladyfingers.
Fit a pastry bag with a ½-inch plain tip and line a baking sheet with parchment. (Parchment works better than a silicone baking mat here.) Fill the bag with half of the sponge batter and pipe out fingers of dough about 4 inches long and an inch or so wide. (Or make them any length or width you want.) If you want to do this the way the pros do, pipe the logs side by side, so that they're touching—you'll separate them après baking; if not, pipe individual logs. Continue until you've piped as many ladyfingers as you'd like, using the remaining batter. (You can also use the batter to pipe circles.) Dust the tops of the fingers lightly with confectioners' sugar and let them rest on the counter for 15 minutes while you preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. (If you've piped out two sheets of fingers, position the oven racks so that they divide the oven into thirds.) Just before you're ready to bake, give the little cakes another light dusting of confectioners' sugar. Bake the ladyfingers for 8 to 10 minutes, or until they're a pale golden color—they shouldn't color much. When they're done, lift the parchment from the baking sheet(s) onto a cooling rack and let the fingers cool to room temperature. When you're ready for the ladyfingers, run a long metal spatula, preferably offset, under them to ease them off the parchment, then, if necessary, use a pizza cutter (my first choice) or a long sharp knife to cut individual ladyfingers.

ANOTHER BONNE IDÉE
Raspberry Tiramisu en Verrine.
The name
tiramisu
is used in France for just about any combination that has ladyfingers and mascarpone, and most of the combos are pretty tasty. Many of the versions star strawberries or raspberries. Here's one that's made in a
verrine,
or short glass, a presentation style that started several years ago and seems only to get more popular with time. You can use either a sponge sheet or ladyfingers for the cake part of the tiramisu. Whichever you use, cut it to fit inside the glasses. For each portion (depending on the size of the glasses, you'll probably have enough filling for 4 to 6 portions), put a round of cake in the bottom of the glass. Brush the cake with a little kirsch, framboise, or crème de cassis, an optional but delicious step.

Spread a little raspberry coulis over the cake. (Make the coulis by pureeing fresh or frozen raspberries, straining it—or not—and then sweetening it to taste.)

Spoon on a layer of the mascarpone cream filling (make it without the blueberries) and then top with fresh raspberries. Repeat with another set of cake, optional liqueur, coulis, cream, and berries. Chill well before serving with a dusting of confectioners' sugar.

T
HE TECHNIQUE FOR MAKING THIS DESSERT
is ingenious. You prepare a chocolate mousse and bake some of it so that it firms, takes on a little chewiness, and, after puffing, sinks in the center to form a kind of bowl. Then you mound the remaining mousse over the "crust" and chill it—or bake it again. Either way, you get a sweet that's elegant, luscious, and intriguing, because each layer has a different texture.

This is a recipe I learned in the late 1980s from the Michelin-starred chef Michel Rostang. By the time he taught it to me, it was already a classic at his restaurant—and it still is today. Chez Rostang, the dessert is made in individual portions and called a
tarte.
Because the metal dessert rings the chef uses are hard to find, I've reworked the recipe so that it can be made in an 8-inch springform pan. Made like that, it's more
a gâteau
than a tart, but it remains delicious.

Quite by accident, I made a third variation of this recipe and ended up liking it best of all: I baked the cake and chilled it overnight, rather than serving it warm. Done this way, the difference between the layers is even more distinct and the mousse layer is considerably more luxurious.

I've given you all three variations in the recipe and the fourth, for the individual desserts, as well (see Bonne Idée).

BE PREPARED:
You'll need to chill the base of the cake for at least an hour.

Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. Generously butter the sides of an 8-inch springform pan (you won't be using the base). Line a baking sheet with a silicone baking mat or parchment paper and put the springform ring on it.

Melt the chocolate, stirring occasionally, in a large bowl set over a pan of simmering water (the bowl should not be touching the water). When it's smooth, whisk in the espresso or coffee. Remove the pan from the heat and mix in the butter tablespoon by tablespoon. Gently whisk in the sugar and a pinch of salt, then add the yolks one at a time. You'll have a lovely, velvety mix.

In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment or in a large bowl with a hand mixer, whip the egg whites with another pinch of salt until they are firm but still glossy. Very gingerly whisk about one quarter of the
whites into the chocolate mixture, just to lighten it. Switch to a rubber spatula and gently fold the remainder of the whites into the chocolate.

Scrape a generous one third of the mixture into the buttered ring of the pan. Cover and refrigerate the remaining mousse.

Bake the cake for 15 minutes, at which point it will be puffed. Transfer the baking sheet to a cooling rack and let the cake cool to room temperature (see below if serving the cake cold)—when there'll be a dip in the center of it. Then chill the base, still on the baking sheet, for at least an hour if you want to serve the cake warm.

TO SERVE THE CAKE COLD:
Wait for the bottom layer to cool completely (you can put it in the refrigerator), then scrape the remaining mousse into the pan. Cover the pan and refrigerate for at least 6 hours, or for as long as overnight.

Transfer the springform to a serving plate and remove the ring (run a blunt knife around the edge, with the ring still in place, or warm the pan with a hair dryer). Dust the cake with cocoa powder.

TO SERVE THE CAKE WARM:
Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. Scrape the chilled mousse onto the chilled base, still on the baking sheet. Bake the cake for about 30 minutes, or until the top is puffed and dry—it will crack, and that's both fine and attractive—and a knife inserted inside a crack comes out almost dry.

Transfer the baking sheet to a cooling rack and wait for 5 minutes, then run a blunt knife around the edges of the cake and remove the sides of the pan. The cake will sink, so just let it settle for another 5 minutes. Transfer to a serving plate and dust with cocoa powder.

TO SERVE THE CAKE BAKED AND CHILLED (THE WAY I PREFER IT):
Bake the cake filled with the chilled mousse as directed for warm cake above, then cool it to room temperature and chill it for at least 4 hours. Remove the sides of the springform pan (run a blunt knife around the edges or warm the pan with a hair dryer), carefully transfer the cake to a serving platter, and dust the top with cocoa powder.

MAKES 6 SERVINGS

SERVING
Whipped cream or ice cream is never a bad idea with chocolate cake.

STORING
You must bake the base of the cake ahead, and the mousse can be kept chilled for several hours. Once baked, the cake can be covered and kept in the refrigerator for a day or two or wrapped airtight and frozen for up to 2 months; thaw the cake in its wrapper.

BONNE IDÉE
Michel Rostang's Double Chocolate Mousse Tartlets.
To make individual tartlets, you'll need six 3½-inch metal dessert rings, each about 2 inches high. Place the rings on a baking sheet lined with a silicone baking mat or parchment paper, then divide one third of the mousse among the six rings. Bake the tartlet bases in a 400-degree-F oven for 8 minutes if you're going to serve the tartlets warm, for 13 minutes if you're going to serve them cold. Proceed as directed. If you're serving the tartlets cold, the easiest way to remove the dessert rings is to warm them with a hair dryer and then to slide the rings up and off.

I
CAN STILL REMEMBER HOW EXCITED
I
WAS
when I first saw a
tourteau de chèvre.
It was over thirty years ago, and I was in Paris for the first time. I'd gone to a cheese shop to buy a slice of Brie, a cheese I couldn't wait to taste on native soil, and there, sitting to the side of the cool marble counters, was something that didn't look like anything I'd ever seen before. It was round on the sides and ballooned on top, a top that was as black as ash. Of course, I bought one, and when Michael and I tasted it, we fell in love with it—but we still didn't know what it was. The blackened top didn't taste burnt, the tender interior was not really sweet, but not savory either, and it wasn't clearly one flavor or another. And was that a crust on the bottom and up the sides? Was it cheese? Did you have it before a meal? Or was it a cake you had for dessert? As part of the cheese course? We reasoned it had to be cheese, since it was only sold in
fromageries,
but everything about it was a mystery, and neither of us spoke French well enough to ask for an explanation or to understand one had it been forthcoming. It wasn't until we got back to New York that I discovered that it was a cheesecake (of sorts) and that the cheese was
chèvre,
goat cheese.