Vegan Guinness Chocolate Cake

He was a wise man who invented beer.
~ Plato


... to say nothing of the one who invented dark chocolate, and sunglasses, the one who gave birth to chamomile tea, summer at the seaside and facebook, that who developed hair gel - even better if it smells like cookies -, flared jeans, fragolino wine and focaccia, and even the one who created Snoopy, the bicycle, the toaster and the sky full of stars.
But we digress. Or maybe not, who knows, I like to think that everything is held together by the same thread, a shaggy cord full of knots, powered by candies, raspberries, and popcorn, that passing by Plato with his pint of beer, and through Calvin & Hobbes, Amélie Poulain and Lucio Battisti, has resisted time, the whims and storms of the mind without ever breaking at all, and has surprisingly led me in front of this cake, super chocolaty, very elegant and total black, to put it as he does.



GUINNESS?? CHOCOLATE?? CAKE?? Have I heard it right? Three of the things that make life worth living, joined together in a soft and spongy hug. Impossible not to be seduced. Impossible not to capitulate.
And therefore, when they virtually suggested me the same warm, tender, and fragrant hug in veganlove version, as a gesture of love towards myself, as a tribute to a dusty 50mm lens and a trunk full of mismatched bowls and crumpled rags, but also as an act of trust for this crazy little blog and this crazy little world, I jumped at the chance without thinking about it too much.
And just like a cochobeersugar boomerang, after adjusting, sanding and repainting it my way, I throw you the same hug full of love and hope, on top of an ideal off-white vintage tray.
Call it what you will, delusions of a romantic foodblogger, sweet paranoia of a mid-autumn night, special effects of one Guinness too many, but if that same thread, passing through some semi-secret door, managed to get to you, I recommend you capitulate with me, grab this boomerang and share a slice, before re-launching it through space as it should be.
Because it was certainly a wise man or woman who invented beer, but even more so the one who dared mixing it with chocolate.
To say nothing of the one who one day tried adding some tofu...
w.v.<3





Vegan Guinness Chocolate Cake
for a 9" diameter springform pan

flour 250 gr
unsweetened cocoa powder 100 gr
sugar 300 gr
baking soda 2 teaspoons
baking powder 1/2 teaspoon
salt 1 pinch
guinness extra stout 450ml
sunflower seed oil 100 gr
vanilla extract 2 teaspoons
silken tofu 125 gr

For the chocolate frosting
semisweet chocolate 170 gr
coconut milk 120 ml

In a large bowl, sift flour, cocoa, baking soda, baking powder, and salt. Add sugar, stir and set aside. In another bowl whisk together oil, vanilla extract, beer and tofu (yesyesyes, you've read that right, oil+Guinness+tofu, it sounds like Star Trek disguised as Grandma Duck, but trust me, it'll all work out that way...) until the mixture is smooth and without any lump. Gradually add the flour&cocoa mixture and stir until well blended. Pour batter into a springform pan previously greased with oil, and bake at 350 for about an hour. Let the cake cool on a rack.
Meanwhile, prepare the frosting. Finely chop the chocolate and place it in a bowl. Heat coconut milk over medium-high heat and bring it to a boil, stirring occasionally to prevent it from sticking. Pour boiling milk over the chocolate, so that it completely covers it. Allow to sit for about 5 minutes before mixing it to yield a smooth glaze. Let it cool down for about 30 or 40 minutes until it thickens and becomes spreadable (if it's not thick enough, add one teaspoon of corn starch and stir well). At this point, beat the frosting with an electric mixer so that it incorporates air and feels lighter. Gently spread it on top of the cooled cake and serve.
Cheers!

Fudgy Wudgy Raspberry Brownies

Happiness. Simple as a glass of chocolate or tortuous as the heart. Bitter. Sweet. Alive.
~ Joanne Harris, Chocolat


It happens sometimes, that you run into a special encounter. You're standing there looking up in the air, lost through the tortuous streets of your heart, busy imagining the sky, to the extent that at times you almost feel as if you've lost the thread of your skein. Then one day, one day like any other, with the sun, the fog and perhaps a hint of rain, you find yourself in the middle of an intersection, and still gazing into the clouds, you unconsciously make a left turn. And it's right there, at the end of the curve, half by chance and half for fun, that it hits you.
It's someone like you, half a soul mate with his own tangled skein, wwandering and looking up in the air, and clinging to your same ghosts, trying not to lose the thread. In that moment, under the tenderness of a random encounter in the rain, you understand why you had to make a turn at that intersection, why right that path, why those reflections in the mirrors have led you up to that point. Suddenly, exchanging umbrellas, your wandering starts making sense, and indeed the reason why for a long time you've ran around in a circle seems quite obvious, and so do all those curves, and those distractions, and the hills with no top, and the ways down into the night. The map of the labyrinth inside you starts getting a little clearer, and the countless times you've argued with whoever it was who drew it in you, slip away from memory.
Without thinking too much, and with eyes still at the clouds, you feel that the only thing you're required to do is stretch your heart, hide your clutter a little bit, and make room for those like you who sometimes get tangled under the rain. It's at the end of the curve, and thanks to that unexpected encounter, that you decide to sit down for a moment, take a breath, and put off for a day the checklist of things. It's an afternoon like any other, with the sun, the fog and perhaps a hint of rain, the day when you exchange your threads, and organize an unlikely picnic by swapping a slice of cake and some toasted bread with jam.
And then, when you start your ride again, you feel lighter, as if by magic, because you know that the skein is now a little less tangled.

These bittersweet brownies, full of cracks but guilt-free, these soft, red and graciously imperfect brownies are the result of an encounter in the rain. I dedicate them to all those special people who suddenly happen to fall into your hands, and who unwittingly light your way.





Fudgy Wudgy Raspberry Brownies*
for a 9x13" baking pan

semisweet chocolate chips 120 gr + 65 gr
raspberry fruit spread 280 gr
soy milk 50 gr
unrefined sugar 150 gr
vegetable oil 75 gr
flour 250 gr
unsweetened cocoa powder 25 gr
almond extract 1/2 teaspoon
pure vanilla extract 2 teaspoons
baking powder 1/4 teaspoon
baking soda 1/2 teaspoon
salt 1 pinch
fresh raspberries 150 gr

In a double boiler melt 120 grams of chocolate chips, and let cool. In a large bowl, combine the raspberry fruit spread with soy milk, sugar, oil and extracts. Beat with the mixer for few minutes until the mixture is smooth and without any lump. In a separate bowl, sift together flour, cocoa, baking powder, baking soda and salt, and add them by hand to the previous mixture. Stir well and then add the melted chocolate, the remaining chocolate chips and the fresh raspberries. The batter will be quite thick.
Spread it in the pan previously greased with oil and dusted with flour, and level it with a spatula. You don't need to spread it to the very corners of the pan, because the batter will expand while baking and everything will be OK. No worries.
Bake at 325 for 45 minutes. For once forget the toothpick test, because brownies are moist and the toothpick would betray you. Just trust the smell coming out of the oven...
Let them cool off, then cut the brownies into squares, have a bite and scream out loud:

I CAN'T BELIEVE IT IS VEGAN!


*I adapted the recipe from Veganomicon, slightly adjusting the amount of chocolate and flour. This is my latest craze, which - I fear - one day I'll have to explain. But for now, just take them as they are, these crazy, reddish, guilt-free brownies.
With vegan love.


All you need is love. But a little chocolate now and then doesn't hurt.
~ Charles M. Schulz

Chocolate Orange Tart

To wrap up the week with a sweet touch, here is a tart that I've made many times before, taking the recipe from the online forum of the magazine La Cucina Italiana.
This time though, I've substituted the chocolate filling with the Nutella-like spread I made few weeks ago (the one made with dark chocolate), which has been haunting me for days, demanding attention.
I had almost succeeded! One whole week without making any dessert, not a cookie, not a tart, not a pudding. And then, at the very last moment, here I am, giving in to Nutella (I have a feeling I've already heard this one...).
Oh well, let's celebrate another Friday!


Chocolate Orange Tart
for a 9" diameter tart pan

For the pastry dough
pastry flour 170 gr.
confectioners' sugar 70 gr.
butter 100 gr.
egg yolks 2
grated zest of one orange, salt

For the filling
orange marmalade 200 gr. circa
dark chocolate 200 gr.
whipping cream 100 gr.
sliced almonds (optional) to taste

Sift flour on the work surface. Take butter out of the fridge, cut it in small cubes and rub it with the flour using your fingers, until you get a crumbly dough. Make a dwell in the middle and put sugar, egg yolks, orange zest and salt. Mix them with the flour using a spatula and work the dough until it gets smooth, trying to be as quick as possible so that it won't get warm. Wrap in plastic and let it rest in the fridge for at least one hour before using it. Pastry dough can also be prepared one or two days ahead and kept in the fridge until ready to use.
Roll out the dough and place it in the baking pan, cover with parchment paper and put a layer of dried beans on top (you can use the ceramic weights instead), so that the crust won't rise as much while baking. Bake at 340 for 20 minutes, take out the beans and parchment paper and bake for about 20 minutes longer, until it turns of a light golden color.
Let the tart shell cool completely. Take it out of the pan and spread a layer of orange marmalade on top, and then a layer of dark chocolate, previously melted with the cream using a bain maire (as I was telling you earlier, instead of the chocolate-cream filling, this time I've used the chocolate-hazelnut spread, slightly warmed in a bain maire so that it would be easier to spread).
If you'd like, sprinkle the surface with sliced almonds. Let it cool in the fridge before serving.

Baci di Dama

Baci di Dama (literally, Lady's Kisses) are delicious, so small, elegant and fragrant. But they're as seductive as deceiving. Flattening in the oven is their specialty, no matter how nice and neat, round and perfect they look on the baking sheet. What a fool you are! You've even measured them with a fruit scoop in order to have them all the same size, you thought you'd given them an impeccable shape, handling them with love between your hands while focusing on the perfect roundness of the sun, a Christmas ornament or a cherry.

And their fragrance! Even that is mean. A strong hazelnut scent spreads throughout the house, it doesn't let you foresee anything, even your neighbors are alerting their senses. Yes, it's that good. I think it's really time to open the oven. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! You scream out of despair, you tear your hair out, you look incredulous. That's it...I quit....Yes, tomorrow the girl is shutting down her kitchen and she's going to be an hermit in Alaska, for a new blog-free decade.
The Lady's Kiss, the same one you devoted your last culinary afternoon of 2009, has become a whole shapeless layer, a giant hazelnut-tasting platform that along with the cookie has smashed away all your hunger for fame. And now what am I supposed to do with this huge Kiss and all that Nutella-like Spread? A large chocolate-covered pizza, flat and hazelnutty? An almond flying saucer? A New-Age sbrisolona (Italian flat, crumbly cake, made with almonds)? No, Alaska seems to be the best option. New year, new life.

But luckily, as expected, even this year all your great resolutions vanish quickly, this time already at January first dawn. New year, same old routine. Do stretching exercises, make less cookies, be on time, don't swear, go to bed early, do yoga, drink a half gallon of water every day: who do you think you are? To me, nothing has changed: today I missed my yoga class in order to make the Lady's Kisses one more time, I shouted unrepeatable words against the oven so that it wouldn't dare playing tricks on me, I missed the bus and for sure I'll go to sleep at 4am to publish this post, I arrived late at a dinner with a friend 'cause I had to photograph the little evils before giving them as a gift, I've drunk the usual bottomless cup of coffee at Starbucks and half a sip of water the whole day, and I gave up on Alaska. It's too cold anyways.

So may this 2010 be a year full of the usual things, all the ones that make your day rosy, the scent of hazelnuts roasting in the oven, a phone call from a friend, a song by the Beatles, a slice of bread with jam, a Sunday afternoon at the movies, a trip to the countryside, fresh snow, end-of-season sales, the kisses from your elegant ladies or your sweet-smelling gentlemen, depending on your taste. Amen.


Baci di Dama
for about 40-50 cookies

hazelnuts 100 gr.
almonds 100 gr.
butter 200 gr.
flour 200 gr.
sugar 160 gr.
egg yolk 1
salt 1 pinch
dark chocolate for the filling to taste

Toast almonds and hazelnuts in the oven. Let them cool off, then try to eliminate their outer skin as much as possible. Grind them finely in the mixer with a little bit of sugar (taken from the whole amount), to prevent them releasing the oil.
Mix sugar and cold butter, then add flour, ground almond-hazelnut mixture, egg yolk and salt, and work the dough quickly until it's smooth. Shape it into a ball, cover with plastic and let it rest in the fridge for few hours or overnight (it keeps well even for few days).
After this time, take the dough out of the fridge and form small balls approximately the size of a cherry. Place them slightly apart on a baking sheet covered with parchment paper. To avoid the Lady's Kisses flattening disaster when baking them, after you've shaped the balls, let them rest in the fridge for about half hour, so that they're very cold by the time you put them in the oven.
Bake at medium-low temperature (220-260F) for about 20 or 30 minutes. The temperature and the baking time vary depending on the oven. It's better to keep a medium-low heat (to avoid the flattening disaster) and keep watching them every ten minutes. They're ready when their surface starts breaking. As soon as they come out of the oven, they're very delicate and crumbly; therefore it's better to let them cool completely on the baking sheet before handling.
For the filling, melt some dark chocolate and use it to attach two half-cookies together. I've used the Nutella-like spread made with dark chocolate (OK, yes, I posted the one with milk chocolate, but the truth is, I made two versions, so now I have 4 jars of chocolate spread...!!).
Short parenthesis: Lady's Kisses can be also made with hazelnuts only or almonds only, or you can add some cocoa powder to the dough and fill them with white chocolate instead. The main ingredients - butter, nuts, flour and sugar - should be used in the same weight amount; I've used less sugar because I like them better less sweet.

Nutella Nutellae

Nutella omnia divisa est in partes tres:
Unum: Nutella in vaschetta plasticae.
Duum: Nutella in viteris bicchieribus custodita.
Treum: Nutella sita in magno barattolo (magno barattolo sì, sed melium est si magno Nutella IN barattolo).
(Caius Julius Ferrerus, ah no, sorry, R. Cassini, Nutella Nutellae)

[This quote is really for my Italian friends, and it's impossible to translate properly. It's a latin-like poem on Nutella, which echoes the first lines of the famous De Bello Gallico by Julius Caesar]

How nice it was when the world was split in half, on this side Nutella, on the other side Ciao Crem (another brand of chocolate-hazelnut spread, popular in Italy in the 80's). And it was so easy to choose. Let's be frank, Ciao Crem has all my respect; after all it did its best desperately trying to differentiate itself with two flavors of different color, chocolate and hazelnut, mixed together in the same jar. And yet, despite the slogan Two Flavors: Two Kisses, Nutella has always remained the queen of afternoon snack, first promising energy to do and to think (popular 80's slogan of Nutella TV commercials) with its supposedly simple and natural ingredients; then cheering up the Nutella Rave Parties of our teenage years when, spread on top of giant slices of baguette, it was bore shoulder-high around the building (again, it was a scene from another popular TV commercial); and finally being packaged in reusable glass jars, that would pile up with no shame to bear perpetual memory of our addiction.

At home back in Italy we even had a 20-pound jar, which was sitting on the shelf in front of everybody. It was the Social Nutella, and whoever came in could not resist its call. Maybe it was because of the enormous proportions of the vase, or maybe it was the logo NUTELLA written in an extra large font, I don't know. The fact is that this maxi package would bring back primordial instincts and sooner or later everybody had to experience the thrill of sinking the spoon (when it was not a ladle) in a big ocean of Nutella, one where you couldn't see the bottom.

What follows here is a homemade version of the infamous spread. It may not be Nutella, but it's close. After all, if even Ciao Crem gave it a try...
Pass the bread, please. Or maybe the slice of panettone, since we are at Christmas time. But be advised, I don't guarantee on the side effects.


Chocolate Hazelnut Spread
(lacking in modesty, we could say Nutella-Like Spread)
for two medium-size jars

hazelnut 130 gr.
milk chocolate 200 gr.
sugar 120 gr.
low-fat milk 150 ml.
sunflower seed oil (or other neutral tasting oil) 90 ml.

The recipe is based on Elena di Giovanni's one, which has been posted many times on the Cucina Italiana online forum, and which has also been published by Paoletta, here. But I've used milk chocolate instead of dark one, in order to get a result closer to the original, even if maybe it's less satisfactory for those chocolate purists. And I've adjusted the quantities accordingly (in short, more hazelnuts and less sugar).

Toast hazelnuts in the oven, let them cool down, and then eliminate their outer skin. Put them in a food processor with a little bit of sugar (taken from the total amount) and grind them finely. Chop up the chocolate. Pour all ingredients in a pan with heavy bottom, place it on the stove at low heat, making sure the spread doesn't warm up too much. As soon as chocolate is melted, use an immersion blender to grind the hazelnut grains as fine as possible. Cook for 3 or 4 minutes longer, always stirring, until the spread is smooth. Pour the Nutella-like cream in the jars when still warm, and let it cool completely before sealing them.

Chocolate Chip Cookies

I haven't made chocolate chip cookies since college. To be honest, I wasn't actually making them at that time either, because my friend Sarah, a genuine American, was usually in charge of baking them for a bunch of hungry people who - who knows why - would always manage to answer the call. Cookie calling, friend coming. It's the unwritten, always effective rule.

Still the same friend tought me that in order to fully enjoy the cookie, you have to grab one right out of the oven, when the chocolate is practically melted and the cookie is still warm and soft, put it in a glass, cover it with milk, stir and go. You can repeat the process with the second batch, and for those of you who have a strong stomach, even with the third or fourth. You know the deal.

And the same friend, who obviously knows what she's talking about, told me that another must-do of the Operation Cookie is making the dough and eat it raw by the spoonful. And this is such a popular habit that some famous ice-cream manufacturers, such as Haagen-Dazs or Ben & Jerry's, began selling a Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough flavour. It's like a star-and-stripe version of our Stracciatella.

This recipe comes once again from that place in Berkeley I already told you about, a mix between an artisan egg-pasta shop, a bakery and a coffe shop/breakfast place. It's slightly different from more traditional recipes because of the amount of nuts and the rolled oats, which give the cookies a characteristic texture and create the illusion of a healthy snack. Don't worry though, these are neither healthy nor light, especially if you eat the dough raw or if you melt them in a big glass of milk when they're still warm.


Chocolate Chip Cookies
for approximately 30 cookies

butter, at room temperature 225 gr.
sugar 160 gr.
brown sugar 160 gr.
vanilla extract 1 teaspoon
eggs 2
all-purpose flour 290 gr.
rolled oats 110 gr.
(of which 35 gr. need to be finely ground)
baking powder 1 teaspoon
pinch of salt
pecan 170 gr.
chocolate chips 350 gr.

Cream butter with sugar, brown sugar and vanilla extract. Add the eggs, one at a time. Sift flour with baking powder and add it to the dough. Add ground oats and salt and mix well. At the end, add the remaining rolled oats, chopped pecans and chocolate chips.
Refrigerate the dough until cold (you can also make it two or three days in advance).
Form small balls, a bit larger than a walnut shell, press them slightly between your hands, then place them about 2 inches apart on a baking sheet covered with parchment paper.
Bake the cookies at 380 for about 12-15 minutes, until they turn golden-brown. Right out of the oven, they will be very soft, but they turn crunchy once they cool down.

Flourless Chocolate Pecan Cake

This cake is one of the first memories I have of my Californian experience. It was back in 1999, I had just graduated from college and I decided to come to San Francisco, unaware of the consequences (because after 10 years I am still here!). To be precise, in the beginning I was staying in Berkeley at a friend's house. And to finance my "vacation", I found a job in a coffeshop on Shattuck Avenue.
It was the dot.com boom era and people were not afraid to spend money. Trendy restaurants and specialty stores were popping up like crazy, young millionaires with no cash flow were competing with each other on who was able to indulge on more daily luxuries, edible and not.
This unusual store opened right in the middle of this euphoric climate. It was a Pastificio, specialized in making fresh egg pasta of any possible flavour and color, Meyer lemon, cocoa, lemon and black pepper, habanero pepper, blueberry, tomato, and 100 other flavours that I don't remember anymore. And people were lining up, ready to pay even $10 for a pound of pasta, something that would not happen today.
Aside from the pasta shop, they had a breakfast counter, and they used to bake bread, sweets and cookies to fall in love with. I've never had a better olive bread or cinnamon roll. Let alone the chocolate chip cookies or the almond paste torte.

A couple of years ago I happened to be in Berkeley and I walked by Shattuck Avenue, hoping to buy a loaf of bread and some dried tomatoes packed in olive oil. But there was no sign of the old Pastificio, it sunk with the economic crisis of the new millennium. What a shame.
Luckily, I was able to save few recipes that I learnt here and there just by watching my "colleagues" at work. This cake, they would make it every day, and it was always a hit, long before the gluten free trend. Back then one would simply say flourless instead.
No flour, but lots and lots of chocolate! : )


Flourless Chocolate Pecan Cake
for a 9" diameter round pan

butter 1 stick (115 gr.)
chocolate with 70% cocoa 120 gr
eggs 3
pecans 200 gr.
sugar 100 gr.
vanilla extract 1 teaspoon
pinch of salt

Melt butter and chocolate in a double sauce pan over boiling water, let it cool down and then fold in the eggs, one at a time, salt, vanilla and sugar. Beat well with the mixer. In the end, add pecans, lightly toasted in the oven and fine ground. Pour the dough in a round pan, buttered and dusted with flour, and bake at 350 for about 40 minutes.
Let it cool on a rack, dust with powder sugar.