Schwartswalder Kirschtorte

We have a 0% chance of a white Christmas this year. In fact, it feels like spring. We may see 50°F or higher today. The ground was sufficiently thawed yesterday for us to secure the bottom of the chicken netting with earth staples. We’ll see if that works. I’m not sure what we will do if it doesn’t.

The girls are enjoying the lovely weather. I tried to get a picture of the Black Australorps that would show the lovely iridescent green of their feathers in the sun. Sadly, the camera doesn’t see it.

Black Australorps--just take my word that their feathers shine green in the sun.

Everyone looks so good compared to last year. The Dominiques have all their feathers, and all the hens have fully developed tails. There’s a lesson here, I think. If we get another mean hen, we should just get rid of her.

Hens with all their feathers

I decided to make a Schwartzwalder kirschtorte (Black Forest cherry cake) for Christmas dessert this year. I haven’t made one in 10 years at least. We first got the recipe when my brother was spending a year in Germany after he finished college, c. 1979. At the time it seemed impossibly fussy, but that was before America’s Test Kitchen. [In their defense, they are making simpler recipes these days. When I first started watching, most recipes had at least 15 ingredients and took hours to prepare.] Also, I am a much more experienced cook now. When I read the recipe over to assemble the shopping list, it seemed relatively easy.

The first step was to clarify 10 tablespoons of butter. Clarifying butter is a nuisance, which causes people to try to find an easier way. I had a distant memory of one method in which one adds water to the melted butter, chills the mixture, and lifts the clarified butter off the top after it sets up. In theory, the water-soluble milk solids will dissolve in the water, and all of the butter fat will rise to the top.

Beyond the underlying concept, I had nothing to go on. I had to guess at how and how long to heat the butter. I began by melting the butter in the microwave. I added the water, but the butter refused to coalesce. Perhaps I had not gotten it hot enough. I have taken chemistry. I knew that steam would build up in the water beneath the butter and that when it got hot enough, it would “bump.” “Bump” is a code word for “explode.” I put the butter/water back in the microwave and watched it carefully. As soon as I saw the first bubble, I put my hand on the door…. WHUMP. I was too late. I opened the door to stop the microwave. There were exactly 3 molecules of butter and all of the water still in the measuring cup. The remaining 10 tablespoons of butter covered every surface in the microwave, pooling on the bottom, dripping from the door, hanging like nascent stalactites from the top.

Do over. I put another 10 tablespoons of butter in a saucepan on the stove and started cleaning. And cleaning and cleaning. I hate it when I make so much work for myself.

I let the butter get thoroughly melted this time and added hot water. I hoped that the whatever caused the bubbles on the top would be dissolved in the water along with the milk solids at the bottom. The droplets of butter didn’t form a nice layer as much as I would have liked. I put it in the refrigerator and hoped it would sort itself out overnight.

Butter on top, milk solids and water underneath

Yesterday, I took off the top layer and put it on a paper towel. There were still many little spheres of butter floating on the top of the milky water. I fished them out with a tea strainer. I melted all the butter again. The foam on the top reappeared. I skimmed it off. I let all the water boil off, which took quite a bit of time. There were very few milk solids, and they almost all adhered to the bottom of the pan, making it easy to pour off the clarified butter. I am not ready to recommend this method, although I think it has potential, provided one avoids the microwave.

Heating the butter a second time

Clarified butter! Hooray!

The cake is leavened entirely with egg. I beat eggs and sugar with a stand mixer until light and fluffy.

Folding in flour and cocoa

I folded in cocoa and flour by hand. Finally, I folded in the butter, two tablespoons at a time. The recipe cautioned against overmixing. Flour and egg can get tough in a hurry. When I poured the batter into the cake pans, I discovered that I had erred on the side of caution—there was more butter at the bottom than the top. I tried to distribute the butter evenly among the three pans and hoped for the best. The cakes looked fine when they were done. I put them in an airtight container overnight.

The other prep I did yesterday was to make “curls” from 8 ounces of dark chocolate using a vegetable peeler. Dark chocolate, having a low fat content, doesn’t curl all that well. To help the process, I had this idea that I would put a heating pad under my largest and thinnest cutting board. Some cooks recommend heating the chocolate with your hands, but my hands are almost always cold. The heat did help, but I had to rewarm the chocolate frequently. At first, I planned to finely chop the little ends that were too small to peel. When I was done, I just ate them all. I had plenty of curls/shards to cover the cake.

Making chocolate curls by warming chocolate on a heating pad. Leftover nubs are on the cutting board at the top.

This morning, I sprinkled simple syrup and kirsch on the cakes and whipped 3 cups of cream. Such a lot of cream! I spread ½’ of cream on the bottom layer and spread tart cherries on top. 

Beginning the assembly

I put on the next layer of cake and another ½’ of cream. Finally, I added the final cake layer and piled on the whipped cream. I pressed the chocolate curls/shards onto the cake all over and garnished with the cherries that didn’t fit on the first layer. Done!

The shard-covered cake

The kirschtorte is in the refrigerator. The ham is in the oven. Jane will be here in another hour, and we will spend a pleasant afternoon eating and drinking. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a goodnight!