Can You Be Obsessed...

...with cake?  Not just being pro-cake.  More than just proclaiming, 'I much prefer cake over pie.'  (That's me)  But...can you be obsessed with a cake?  Can you like a cake so much that you make it once and before it's been completely consumed--not solely by you, thank god--you are already thinking about making it again?  Like NOW.  It's similar to how I felt after I got my first tattoo.  No sooner did I have the first one, not even fully healed, that my mind was swirling with ideas on what the next tattoo would be and where it would go.

If you make this yourself, you'll understand why I couldn't stop thinking about it.  The original recipe  is from Christopher Kimball's 'Milk Street' magazine.  My absolute favorite part is that it's a one bowl recipe--all you need is a bowl and a whisk (and a cake pan, naturally).  No mixer, no fancy gadgets.  The best kind of recipe.  For those of you who are gluten-free...guess what?  It's gluten-free!  The cake, hailing from Galicia, Spain, is known as tarta de Santiago.  Traditionally, it is dusted with powdered sugar using a stencil of the cross of St. James the Great, who is reportedly buried in the region's cathedral.

It's a dense cake.  On the Instagram post, someone commented that it is the perfect marriage of marzipan and meringue.  (It IS!)  It gets better the next day or even the day after that.  A friend drizzled a piece with blackberry honey...and holy crap...it was good.  You can pair it with whipped cream and berries as they do in 'Milk Street.'  It would probably be awesome with vanilla bean ice cream.  But, truthfully, I prefer it in it's simplicity.  Just give me a good cup of coffee to accompany a slice.

The recipe in 'Milk Street' uses 1/4 tsp almond extract and 1/4 tsp vanilla extract and no zest.  After reading the article, I did a little Googling to learn more about the cake and decided I wanted to try adding citrus as it's a more traditional way of baking it.  Either way, you'll love it.


Galician Almond Cake (Tarta de Santiago)
adapted from the recipe on Milk Street's site
makes one 9-inch layer cake

1 cup white sugar
3 large eggs
3 large egg whites
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp almond extract
2 1/2 cups blanched almond flour (not almond meal)
zest of one medium lemon
zest of one medium orange
3 tbsp turbinado sugar
1/3 cup sliced almonds

Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees.  Line a 9-inch cake pan with a circle of parchment and butter the sides.  In a mixing bowl, add the white sugar, eggs, egg whites, almond extract, salt, and citrus zests (roughly 2 tbsp altogether).  Whisk until well-mixed.  Add almond flour and mix until incorporated.

Pour batter into lined cake pan.  Sprinkle top with almonds and turbinado sugar.  Try to alternate, so sugar will caramelize on top of cake and on almonds.  Bake 50-55 minutes, until top browns.  Cake should feel firm when tested with a slight press of finger.  Remove from oven and allow to cool for 10-15 minutes.  Run a knife along inner edge of cake before turning out onto plate.  Then invert on second plate.

Taking A Cue

One blog that I read on a regular basis is David Lebovitz's blog.  You cannot go wrong with someone who has written numerous books on the subject of dessert and worked with Alice Waters.  It was his recent post on cherry compote that caught my attention, especially when he began the post claiming to have an affliction with buying too much Summer fruit when in season.  Mentally, my hand went up, guiltily, when I read that sentence, looking over the computer screen to the bowl of fruit on the table that was (and is) overflowing with plums (three varieties), nectarines, and peaches.  And let's not forget how I feel about cherries.  I get excited when cherry season arrives.  I always buy large amounts with big plans on making something truly special with them.  But then...I find myself standing at the kitchen counter, my hand repeatedly dipping into the bowl and eating one after another, after another...after another.  More times than not, I find myself with a pile of cherry pits, stained fingers, and nothing made from those glorious ruby orbs.

This Summer was looking like there would be no cherry-centric recipes made as I was on my third bowl of cherries and I still hadn't made it past the eating stage.  Then, I came across David's recipe.  Looking at the photos he posted, all I could imagine was spooning cherry compote over vanilla ice cream.  Let me tell you...since I caught strep throat last month, ice cream has been a consistent resident in my freezer.  You know...it soothed the pain of an awful sore throat.  Well...then it did.  Now, it just makes me happy.

Get out your cherry pitter (or chopstick), pit some cherries, and make this.  Be sure the vanilla ice cream is in the freezer and ready for it.

Cherry Compote
Adapted from a recipe by David Lebovitz
Makes a little over a cup

2 cups cherries, pitted
1/4 cup pure cane sugar
2 capfuls Irish whiskey (optional)
1/4 teaspoon almond extract

Pit the cherries and add to a large saucepan.  Make sure any juice from the cherries winds up in the pan too.  Add the sugar, extract, and whiskey.  Over medium heat, cook all the ingredients, until the cherries begin to break down.  Occasionally check the progress, since the cooking will cause the cherries and liquid to foam.  Since this isn't a large amount of cherries, it shouldn't be a problem if your pan is large enough.  Cook until the fruit breaks down a considerable amount and all the flavors have mingled (about 20-25 minutes).  Allow to cool for a few minutes before storing or topping ice cream.  

Notes:  I used a chopstick to pit the cherries.  It takes a little getting used to, but once you find a rhythm, it gets easier.  It's a little messy, but worth it.  Be sure to catch any juice from the cherries (there will be some).  I literally used 2 capfuls of whiskey, so if you're looking for an exact measurement, I'll guess it's close to two tablespoons.  Amaretto is another option to use, giving you a double punch of almond if you also use the almond extract, though you could substitute vanilla extract if amaretto is used.