By the time Thanksgiving rolled around this year, I was completely off pie. It’s my own fault—I overdid it with the Thanksgiving preview pie, and instead of flaky pie crust and fruit fillings all I could think of was chocolate and more chocolate…which led me to this recipe for a chocolate pound cake.
This was the goal:
This was the result:
The only tweak I made to the recipe was toasting hazelnuts, chopping them, and sprinkling them on top just after I poured the glaze over the cake.
Lesson learned: burning chocolate only takes a second…I was melting chocolate on the stovetop to mix into the batter, turned away to grab my camera, and when I came back the chocolate had solidified into an ugly burnt mess. (Note to self: duh, this is why folks usually melt chocolate in a double-boiler) Also learned: use a bundt pan that is the specified size. I borrowed my mom’s bundt cake pan that was smaller than the 14-cup size called for, which meant my cake took about an hour and a half to bake and came out of the oven overflowing the pan, looking like a giant muffin.
Being inexperienced with chocolate cakes, I was expecting this recipe to make a more dense cake. But instead, it was very spongy and light. My mom, having read and baked a few more chocolate cake recipes than me, was not at all surprised.
Here are my favorite shots from Thanksgiving day, spent in San Jose with my family. Happy holidays to all—amazing that Christmas is right around the corner.
Dense or not…I would eat that whole cake……mmmm…chocolate! I am plotting to make lava cake…love seeing your delicious creations love
Lava cake sounds amazing! I was thinking of your spanakopita recently too. Thanks for visiting me here, friend! I’d love to see you soon.
That cake looks amazing! And your family is the cutest, thanks for sharing!
Thanks, Amanda! I was happy to see your pies on Instagram — beautiful. You’re so creative with the decorative leaves made out of dough.
Hi Laura-You are such a wonderful poet so I thought you’d appreciate this poem by David Whyte. I hope we can see you at Chistmas. Much love to you.
The Lightest Touch
Good poetry begins with
the lightest touch,
a breeze arriving from nowhere,
a whispered healing arrival,
a word in your ear,
a settling into things,
then like a hand in the dark
it arrests the whole body,
steeling you for revelation.
In the silence that follows
a great line
you can feel Lazarus
deep inside
even the laziest, most deathly afraid
part of you,
lift up his hands and walk toward the light.
— David Whyte
from Everything is Waiting for You
©2003 Many Rivers Press