Tag: Cake

Chocolate, red pepper and red fruit cake recipe – Italian Cuisine

Chocolate, red pepper and red fruit cake recipe

  • 500 g Picaro fresh chillies
  • 500 g apricots
  • 390 g sugar
  • 160 g white wine vinegar
  • 120 g flour plus a little
  • 80 g butter plus a little
  • 50 g dark chocolate
  • 40 g starch
  • 40 g cocoa
  • 3 g baking powder
  • 6 yolks
  • 4 eggs
  • Habanero Chocolate chili powder (very spicy with hints of toast)
  • wild strawberries
  • currant
  • raspberries
  • blueberries
  • salt

For the chocolate, red pepper and red fruit cake recipe, grease and flour a hinge mold (ø 23 cm, h 6 cm). Whisk the yolks and eggs with 130 g of sugar and a pinch of chilli powder with electric whisk or planetary mixer (measure the quantity according to your taste). Sift the flour, starch, baking powder and cocoa and add them to the whipped eggs a little at a time, stirring with the spatula from the bottom upwards in order not to deflate the mixture.

Melt the chocolate together with the butter in a bain-marie or in the microwave. Add the mixture to the eggs and pour into the buttered and floured mold. Bake the cake at 180 ° C for 25 minutes. Remove from the oven, let it cool down, turn it out and trim the surface.

Clean the fresh peppers, cut them into rounds, blanch them 3 times changing the water each time, then collect them in a saucepan with 160 g of water, 160 g of sugar, 160 g of vinegar and a pinch of salt and cook for 12- 15 '. Drain the chilli slices and keep the cooking liquid. Blend them by adding the liquid a little at a time until a creamy consistency is obtained.

Divide the apricots in half, remove the core and cook them with 100 g of sugar and 100 g of water for 10 minutes. Turn off and spread the apricot halves on the surface of the cake, wetting also with the syrup that will have formed. Complete the cake with a few drops of chilli compote and decorate the surface with raspberries, blueberries, currants and wild strawberries. Serve the rest of the chilli compote aside.

Recipe Crepe cake with buckwheat, taleggio cheese and mushrooms – Italian Cuisine

Recipe Crepe cake with buckwheat, taleggio cheese and mushrooms

  • 500 g taleggio
  • 400 g mixed cultivated mushrooms
  • 350 g cabbage
  • 125 g milk
  • 25 g buckwheat flour
  • 25 g 00 flour
  • 20 g butter plus a little
  • 2 cloves of garlic
  • 1 egg
  • extra virgin olive oil
  • salt

For the recipe for the crepe pie with buckwheat, taleggio and mushrooms, mix the 00 flour and the buckwheat flour; beat the egg and add the flour, pouring the milk little by little. Stir until a liquid mixture is obtained, add a pinch of salt and mix again. Melt the butter in a saucepan and add it to the mixture for the crepes.

Grease a pan (ø 14 cm) with a little butter and prepare one crepe at a time, putting a ladle of mixture and cooking it for 1 'on each side; you will have to get 10 crepes. Clean the cabbage and cut it into strips, clean the mushrooms and cut them into cubes, then cook the cabbage and mushrooms separately with the cloves of garlic and a drizzle of oil for 10 '; just before the end of cooking, remove the garlic cloves.

Remove the Taleggio from the crust and put it in a pastry bag. Form two cakes, using 5 crepes for each: distribute a taleggio ring along the circumference of a crepe, add a smaller ring in the center, then fill the spaces between the rings, one with savoy cabbage and the other with mushrooms; cover with another crepe and repeat the operation 4 times, finishing the cake with a crepe. Proceed in the same way for the second cake, then bake at 180 ° C for 5 '.

Memory in a cake – Italian Cuisine

Memory in a cake

On Memorial Day we want to remember those "everyday" Italians who with simple and natural gestures, without wanting to be heroes, helped save the lives of men, women and children. Because, even in that dark period of our past, the light of humanity has never completely gone out. This is Bianca's story

My father has always told me that my grandmother was a great woman, and certainly not because of her height, given that she was barely five feet tall. When I was in middle school, I had already gotten over it.
Her name was Bianca Manera and she was a small, old woman, but with steel hands. I always went to visit her in via dei Fabbri, in Milan, where she lived in a railing house with her two dogs, a little ugly, peeled, but adored by her. She had been a mother girl and had raised my father with what little she had and what my grandfather, an industrialist from Genoa, was going through. And it was good.
When I went to see her, she always made me a savory pie with cheese, a simple thing, perhaps not so excellent from a gastronomic point of view, but I always ate it with enthusiasm because it was cooked by her. She always spoke well of everyone and was loved by her neighbors and my mother (although they weren't even related since dad and mom had separated when I was still a child). He spread a lot of light and spoke mainly by silences, because he always spoke few words. He stroked my head and whispered: "You are my joy."

One day he left us forever. And it was then that my father told me things about her that I didn't know. We were emptying his small apartment when we found some letters in a drawer. They were from a Jewish lady who had managed to escape to America with her husband and two children. During the fascist racial laws, little Bianca, who at that time lived in the countryside, had hidden the woman's family in the barn of the farmhouse where she lived. Little food, little space, so much fear. Yet my grandmother prepared her savory pie with what she found, with that nothing she had.

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