Dobos Torte and a Rant on Textbooks

Dobos Torte

A Dobos (pronounced dough-bush) Torte is a traditional Hungarian dessert. Traditionally it is made with layers of vanilla or lemon sponge cake, layered with chocolate buttercream, topped with soft caramel, and coated in chopped nuts. Cake is a funny thing. The difference between good cake and bad is often a matter of a few grams or degrees or microns. For one, the cake must be moist, but not so moist that it lacks structure. Buttercream should be smooth and creamy but not greasy. Layers must be straight and even, and frosting must be made level. Sweetness is key, in all parts. There must be a balance to ensure that one is neither attacked with sugar nor punished with an unsatisfying dessert. For the sake of ease of portioning (I want a thin slice, I want a big slice, give me half of that, blah blah blah), I opted against using caramel as a topping, instead using some chocolate shavings for texture and visual contrast.

My first attempt since school at making a cake such as this one, I was very pleased with how well it came out (though future attempts, I will seek a higher level of quality). It was delicious, balanced, and, also, awesome. As far as flavorings go, the sponge itself was heavily scented with vanilla extract. I contemplated using some form of spirit or liqueur to drizzle over the cake both for moisture and flavor, but I deemed it unnecessary due to the moistness of the cake already and the tastes of the consumer (In this case, my family). For the buttercream, rather than the traditional chocolate, I added espresso crystals (a great ingredient, but not for drinking) to make "mocha buttercream". Enjoy.







On Buttercream, On Textbooks:

Buttercream, defined in its broadest terms, is an icing or frosting made from sweetened, aerated, solid fat. The simplest style, American Buttercream, is merely soft butter and powdered sugar creamed together. (A bastardization of this is made using shortening or margarine, and is commonly referred to as Criscocream. This is used most prominently in supermarket cakes because of its simple creation, ease of use, and cost-effectiveness. Avoid Criscocream. It will kill you.) More complex forms incorporate eggs in the form of a sabayon (in the case of French BC) or a meringue (in the case of Swiss or Italian BC). The different styles have different physical and olfactory properties and deciding which to use is based upon its intended purpose.

When I was much younger, I had a bit of a sweet tooth. I was a candy fiend. Loved the stuff. And white/milk chocolate rocked my world. Around puberty time, my sweet tooth waned and a preference for rich, savory, and bitter foods prevailed. So for nearly a decade now, I've had a mild aversion to foods which are too sweet. This all changed sometime towards the end of my senior year at CIA. All of a sudden, the sweet tooth returned, and with a vengeance. About two months ago, I was a bit obsessed with cake. Rather than buy cake or order it in a restaurant, I decided to make a batch of cupcakes. Realizing I'd run out of cupcake liners, I opted to pull out some cake pans and make a layer cake. My experience with doing such had been limited to the very controlled cake baking environment in the CIA's Baking for Culinary class. So when I tried to make buttercream frosting at home, according to the recipe in the CIA's Baking and Pastry Arts textbook, I failed miserably. The bloody thing curdled! So I was left there with a pile of meringue and butter reminiscent of a mushed flan. Rather than add insult to injury by throwing more butter into the mess, I started over. This time with a different recipe, also from the CIA pastry text. Seeing the same results unfolding (denaturing?) I added gelatin to stabilize and emulsify the frosting. It was delicious, but had a very icky texture. The cake, though unattractive, served its purpose, satisfying my cake craving.

What I learned: don't make buttercream at home.

Now, I would think that a recipe that spans five sections of a textbook (assembled dessert, cake, frosting, caramel, syrup), in a book designed to TEACH PEOPLE, would have sufficient information on how to make and assess the product (Thankfully, the culinary version does have assessment criteria). Determined to produce a dobos torte for Mother's Day, I looked for other recipes. They were all basically the same, except for one difference. "The Best Recipe" told me that the buttercream would likely curdle about half way through the butter adding process, but would restabilize by the time all the butter was added. I later found out that even Wikipedia could have alerted me to this handy piece of information. Why, I ask, WHY does the EDUCATIONAL TEXTBOOK not tell me in detail about the process of making the product? This CIA text misses the mark entirely as a teach tool, but rather serves as a Triple-Thick™ cookbook. You disappoint me, book.