Myth Happens

I am slightly disappointed that the only difference between a Sachertorte and a Sacher-Masoch-Torte is the presence of redcurrant jam and marzipan in the latter, but that doesn't stop me from approving of its existence.

This message brought to you by Eric's brother's birthday request for a chocolate cake with chocolate frosting, which is so much more straightforward than anything I would have made if left to myself—I would have thrown some cardamom into the batter or kirsch into the icing or messed around with raspberries just to see what happened, but I have kept it so to speak vanilla and with any luck it will be well-received. Essentially, tonight has been a demonstration that I am easily bored and correspondingly obsessive about cooking; I went to put up an apple or two to bake after dinner, as a dessert or a snack, and now I have a glass dish full of apple slices rendered with maple syrup, honey, two kinds of cinnamon and other spices, and some cranberries that couldn't get out of the way fast enough. It tastes fantastic, but I think it stopped being a baked apple somewhere around the time I decided to do the bottom layer with clove and the top layer with ginger and see if they remained distinguishable to the taste after half an hour under foil at four hundred degrees. (Surprisingly, yes.) Also I am unsatisfied with my icing skills, meaning that the cake-wide distribution is not mathematically exact and I had to polish a paper towel around the rim of the plate afterward so as not to present Ron with a theobromine-flavored crime scene. I was adapting the recipe my family uses for holiday fudge. It came out rather more architectural than I had imagined. So long as no one goes into shock, I'll be happy.

I really think I want to reverse-engineer a Sacher-Masoch-Torte now.