Week 18 - The Two Davids - Outsider Tart

And just like that the Ewing was 40 (something). While a birthday stuck at home during a global pandemic may seem less than fun, it ended up feeling like a very special day. Starting with presents in bed, followed by flowers in the post, videos of our nieces and a phone call from my Mum, moving on to pink wine and lunch on the patio, films and a snooze on sofa and ending with homemade fried chicken and a personalised Zoom quiz with our friends.

As we weren't going further than the garden, we had plenty of time to plan the piece de resistance - a Bruce Bogtrotter-style Coke layers cake, from the Outsider Tart cookbook. A book that is already a firm favourite thanks to the incredible s'mores cake that contains a whole packet of digestives in the sponges, and is coated in blow-torched meringue. 

The Ewing is by far the biggest chocoholic I have ever met - one earlier date had me tearing around Greenwich, looking for a newsagent after she had a sugar crash and waited at the pub for me to return laden down with bars of Green and Blacks - and so I knew a recipe that contained over half a kilo of the stuff would always be a good choice. (Awww...that's true lurve - TE).

Plus it had marshmallows (we used chocolate coated, in case there wasn't enough chocolate already), nearly three quarters of a kilo of sugar, most of the EU butter mountain, and a can of Coke. Full fat of course. This is not a cake for those trying to exercise restraint.

In fact, it was the most joyful cake for the most joyful person. (You are so lovely, I love you very much - TE). A perfect fluffy sponge, sweet but with smoky caramel and a rich cocoa bitterness, coated in a tangy sour cream fudge frosting that perfectly gilded the lily. The ultimately celebration cake. And luckily she loved it. As did our neighbours (yes, after some gentle persuasion, the Ewing did share...). Happy birthday, my love.

Chocolate Coke Layer Cake

adapted from Outsider Tart

340g unsalted butter

350ml Coke (not diet)

65g marshmallows, chopped

85g plain chocolate, chopped

530g plain flour

115g cocoa powder

2 1/4 tsp baking powder

1 1/2 tsp bicarbonate of soda

3/4 of a teaspoon of salt

675g granulated sugar

80ml of flavourless oil

1 tbsp of vanilla extract

5 large eggs, at room temperature

300ml buttermilk, at room temperature

Chocolate sour cream fudge frosting

315g milk chocolate, chopped

200g plain chocolate, chopped

340g sour cream

1tsp vanilla extract

Preheat the oven to 180c Butter two 9 inch round cake tins, line the bottoms with baking paper, dust with flour and tap out any excess. 

Place the butter and Coke in a saucepan and heat over a medium heat until the butter melts. Add the marshmallows and chopped chocolate and stir until the chocolate and marshmallows have melted. Let the mixture cool for about 10 minutes.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, cocoa powder, baking powder, bicarbonate of soda and salt, set aside.

Thoroughly combine the sugar, oil and vanilla in a kitchen mixer on medium speed or with an electric whisk. Reduce the speed to low and add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. Add the cooled chocolate mixture and stir until evenly incorporated. 

Alternately add the flour and buttermilk in 3 or 4 stages, beginning and ending with the dry ingredients and mixing only until just combined. Divide the batter evenly among the prepared tins.

Bake for 50 minutes to an hour, or until a skewer inserted into the centre of each cake comes out clean. It is best to rotate the pans front to back, top to bottom about half the way through. If the cakes are browning too quickly, cover the top with foil.

Allow cakes to thoroughly cool on a cooling rack before slicing in half horizontally

To make frosting melt the chocolate in a heatproof bowl over a pan of simmering water.

Remove bowl from the heat and whisk in sour cream and vanilla.

Allow the mixture cool to room temperature, gently stirring occasionally.

When the frosting has thickened enough to spread, sandwich the layers together with the frosting, before covering the the top and sides. Work quickly, before the frosting sets, although you can gently reheat the frosting over simmering water if it thickens too much.

Fishy birthday biscuits

The first time I celebrated the Ewing's birthday with her we went to visit Stealth in London; she had pulled out all the stops - preparing a lovely meal and buying gifts and even planning a special magic show featuring the Ewing to act as her glamorous assistant. Or that was the idea, until we realised my wife hated being the centre of attention and was so overwhelmed with shyness, she couldn't even pick a card. Something that neither of us two showoffs had ever had a problem with.

Fast forward a decade and you would think I would have got the message. But clearly not, as on arriving at Saint Peter for the Ewing's surprise dinner, the maître d' came over to give us the wine list and have a chat - mostly with the Ewing, as I'm not very sociable - before casually announcing; 'so I hear it's someone's birthday'...(and I'm meant to be the one with the shit memory...TE)

At this point my ears pricked up, as the Ewing, wide-eyed looking very much like a rabbit in the headlights, mumbled an affirmative, while staring at me intently across the table. I inwardly groaned, as I remembered writing 'can you stick a candle in my wife's pudding, as it's her birthday' in the comments box on ResDiary, somehow thinking this was a great idea. And I was sober at the time.

Which is more than I can say for either of us when we arrived at Saint Peter, where chef Josh Niland showcases Australian sustainably sourced seafood. Voted both chef and restaurant of the year by Timeout and chef of the Year by Gourmet Traveller, and on the World Restaurant Awards short list for ethical thinking, I knew the Ewing would love it. At least I was hoping she would, right after she had stop glaring at me and kicking me under the table. 

Luckily my wine choice, the 2018 Chardonnay Savagnin, made by the ancestral (pet nat) method, using the original grape sugars and yeast, was a big hit. Crisp and dry, with a touch of fizz and bags of crisp apple and lemon, it was a real celebratory wine that edged me back into the good books.

The arrival of the food also helped, with a plate of beautifully iridescent sweet and sour hand filleted Yamba sardines making the perfect start to the meal. With more than a nod to a classic Venetian dish, sardine in saor, the spankingly fresh raw fish were served on a perfectly balanced bed of sauce that included slow cooked shallots, vinegar and tiny sweet currants. I could have happily eaten a shoal of these, accompanied by crusty bread to mop up every last drop of sauce.

Clarence river octopus with barbecue fennel, bulls kelp and white olive was a big, beefy dish where tender tentacles went toe to toe with the powerful seaweed and the slightly bitter note of the veg. I heartily embrace any opportunity to eat the cephalopod, and here was no different, although not for the faint-hearted.

Swansea bonito, bbq zucchini, bush tomato harissa and preserved lemon paired thick fillets of the tuna-like fish, chargrilled on the outside and almost raw within, with smoky veg and cubes of (I think) potato. A surprisingly delicate dish that carefully balanced all the bold flavours. Although, not known for my love of subtlety, I did find myself missing the zing of the advertised lemon and tomato against the fatty fish.

The crumbed corner inlet garfish, butterflied and fried with the heads and tails still intact, certainly looked the part. The richness from the golden carapace was perfectly offset by the tangy yoghurt tartare, a good squeeze of lemon and the thicket of fresh herbs including flat leaf parsley and dill.

Garfish have green bones, due to the presence of the same bile pigment that gives bruises their verdant hue, and while the colour didn't bother me, I did find eating them made me feel irrationally like the Queen Mother. Although I think I was probably suffering from fish fatigue from eating too much at that point.

While I had been uncharacteristically laid back about the rest of the ordering, I did pretty much insist on the fried brussels sprouts with fresh mint and native pepper as a side dish. 

The Ewing isn't really a sprout lover (I know, I'm not sure why I've stayed with her so long either), and this didn't do too much to change her mind. I however, was a big fan and, despite being dangerously stuffed at this point, found it very hard to resist the bowlful of crispy, charred veg that had been doused in plenty of vinegar before serving; another of my favourite favours.

And what about the birthday girl? After 'persuading' her to order pudding - there wasn't much doubt that she would - we decided to share the chocolate and Murray cod fat caramel slice, with burnt vanilla soured cream, grapes and macadamia sauce, replete with candle.

This was a divisive dish, not so much for the caramel element but for the shortbread crumbs served alongside, which our waitress told us hapuka Roe, making them taste strangely - and not all that appealingly - fishy. Thankfully the birthday girl enthused about it so much that she even managed to persuade her new friends on the table adjacent to us (having tired of talking to me) to order it.

Happy birthday to the Ewing. Here's to the next decade of celebrating with my favourite.