Out & About #868 | Black Forest Cake + Commencing Homemade Vanilla Extract

Mini marshmallow-topped mochas were the default mid-day pick-me-up for the weeks leading into Christmas, and for good reasons. Extremely easy to formulate with exceptional return on investment, there was absolutely nothing to dislike.

While discussing this composition with a coworker, camouflaged behind a screen but radiating the personality of a fellow food enthusiast, I began to contemplate a spiked edition.
Taking to the same base recipe of 1 NOMNOM stick and 2 teaspoons of Tim Hortons' hot chocolate, I opted to swap out 1 tsp of the latter for a whopping 1.65 oz. of Kahlua, keeping the mixture well below 173 F to ensure no loss of alcohol. The solution was far from my expectations, burning my throat without remorse and emerging utterly unharmonious with the other constituents. Moreover, it yielded a staggering sweetness level preventing addition of mini marshmallows. The original, non-spiked edition was superior: Stay sober. 

Reduced daylight hours are arguably challenging to navigate. For late wakers like myself, skies are cloudy at the start of day, glaringly bright around noon, then recede to grim nothingness in the subsequent hours.

​Recently, I've had the luxury of witnessing a rare multi-toned gradient. The conclusion of most workdays are spent with the curtains shut, for the blinding reasons mentioned earlier. With the decrease in emails as of late, I gazed up from my desk more often, admiring the cascading waves of indigo, rose, and coral in the cozy accompaniment of Mr. Buttons.

With both my Mill Street small batch set and NOTL purchases gleefully depleted, I set out to explore other seasonal exclusives. I regret to inform of Crabbie's Original Ginger Beer's excessively sugary yet ginger-deficient profile.

Amongst the many activities made possible during work-from-home days, I maximized the slow holiday period with a much-needed inventory restock trip to Costco. The day was commenced with an Iced Americano and toast with sweetened Pistachio spread.

​In a likely attempt to cater towards the seasonal baking crowd, the shelves were lined with an abundance of nut butters, cocoa powder, and even whole vanilla beans. The club size Kirkland-branded vanilla extract was confirmed to ring in at $7.99 for a two-pack of 455 ml each. There is significance in noting this, as detailed further below.

​I retrieve a hefty round of Pork, Beef, and Veal Pie. The colossal specimen is priced at $17.99 - extremely reasonable given its portion size. The pie was flaky as well, but its fillings mushy and tasteless. It is advised to have a sauceboat of gravy on hand, or a tube of HP sauce nearby, to combat the lack of flavour.

Upon returning home, I prepare to undertake my last big baking mission of the year: Black Forest Cake.

My go-to recipe source of Sunday Baking did not feature a Black Forest Cake on her channel. The original idea had been to utilize the dark chocolate cake sponge in her Cherry Mousse Chocolate Cake formula as the base. On the morning of, however, it was swapped for Cho Hanbit's Chocolate Genoise.

The recipe was intended for a 6-in cake pan, though I didn't bother scaling it up for my own 8-in, figuring that I could likely obtain three thinner layers, or make do with two. The cake adopted a similar appearance to those hailing from Sunday formulas; the air bubble distribution was even too, though the texture was dry and likely overdone. The most obvious differences were absence of chocolatey-ness and tender forkfuls of airiness, distinct qualities that would hardly be ignored in a Sunday Baking recipe.

The Black Forest process also demanded:

• Cherry syrup

The simple syrup recipe was obtained from a new source called Pastry Living with Aya. Kirsch was omitted, as it was both too difficult to locate and too pricey of an investment for a potential one-time use ingredient. The dominant flavour originated from a jar of PC Amarena Cherries, which involved a grueling struggle - complete with elastics, rubber gloves, and hot water - to twist open. Instead of Kirsch, I added in a few drops of orange extract, which would likely be sufficient in contributing the necessary zestiness.

• Chocolate Mousse

Sunday's Rich Chocolate Mousse recipe was scaled down by 33%. It was an interest mix, involving dissolution of gelatin into milk, then pouring the mixture over chocolate callets to melt. Finally, the chocolate would be folded with whipped cream (soft peaks) using sacrificial mixing.

• ​Chocolate Curls

​​Some recipes showed a peeler being used to grate chocolate for coating, but Pastry Living with Aya took to forming a chocolate block, then using an ice cream scoop to obtain the signature chocolate curl look of Black Forest cakes. I too adopted this method, melting my last 133 grams of Callebaut callets and chilling it for 1.5h before scraping with a melon baller. It was likely one of the more time-consuming steps, but thankfully none too detrimental on my deteriorating wrists.

• Whipped Cream

Using the sleepy polar bear's stand mixer assisted tremendously with this process. Beyond the initial weightlifting, the machine was quite useful in that I could maximize my time elsewhere in the kitchen while the cream gradually formed soft, then stiff peaks - likely the airiest I had ever achieved! My only word of warning would extend to over-whipping, which is as common as overflowing oatmeal in the absence of a watchful eye.

Pastry Living with Aya's cross-section served as a guideline for my own: Smeared between layers of chocolate genoise were chocolate mousse and whipped cream, each with pitted amarena cherries fitted within. Given that I had only two layers of genoise on hand though, the top layer was replaced with more whipped cream. A mousse ring was not utilized for stability sake, though I'd say I completed a decent frosting job given my track record.
Chocolate curls were pressed along the entire circumference and leftover chocolate mousse was piped on top (using the wrong piping tip). The remaining cherries in the jar were arranged on top of the chocolate mousse. Only having been drained lightly though, syrup oozed from all angles, bleeding down on the cake like trails of rust.

Source: Pastry Living with Aya, 2022

I wasn't keen on the output product whatsoever. In spite of my efforts, including nearly snapping the household's wrists, the cake was mediocre overall. The cake layers were far too thick and dense for my liking, the cherries were impossibly sweet and one-dimensional, and the flavours blurred together. Neither exceptionally moist, chocolatey, nor emphasizing the fresh, juicy properties of cherries, my first ever Black Forest attempt had resulted in nothing more than a painful stomachache that would persist for at least twenty-four hours. Be it the cherries or Costco-sourced whipping cream, I shan't be revisiting this combination anytime soon, especially not without Sunday's influence. Admittedly, the Alphorn's edition was quite notable; I'd be eager to try that slice again.

​Supper took the form of frozen kale and shredded Rotisserie Chicken.

The next day, after undertaking several chores and finally grinding my last bag of Smile Tiger, I reached for the $52 bottle of Grey Goose.

​My Amazon order of three 16 oz. amber bottles had somehow included a set of mini spray bottles and diffuser heads. Without any immediate use for them, they would remain in the box for the time being, and perhaps unveiled later for travel or unanticipated essence-blending purposes.

Every single DIY vanilla extract tutorial seemed so easy: Obtain vanilla beans, slice them lengthwise to expose seeds, place in bottle, submerge with high-proof alcohol, cover, and leave for six months.

Slicing open vacuum sealed pods was a mission in itself, for they were dry and shriveled, as most objects are after being enclosed in airtight packaging. The process of exposing the seeds took longer than expected, but the next step was surely worse.
Even after multiple attempts, the tiny corked cap of the vodka bottle would not come off. Again, I chose to soak the top in hot water, hoping the theory of "hot air expands" would help my case. Alas, the cap would detach from the cork top altogether. Frustrated, I stabbed a fork through the cork, then slowly wiggled its fragile prongs until the cork came loose. Huzzah!!

Of course, I would soon realize why many food bloggers had opted for several 8 oz. bottles rather than one 16 oz.: the beans needed to be completely submerged. I ended up consolidating 10 vanilla bean pods into one jar. Vodka spilled out. In another, I removed the beans, folded them in half, and pressed them back in. Splitting 750 ml of Grey Goose between the two bottles was tragic.
​Chaotic prepwork complete, I labelled the bottles and inputted a weekly reminder in my calendar for the next six months: Shake vanilla extract.

With all said and done, I deduced the venture the utter opposite of practical, economic, and efficient. The 3-pack of amber bottles were priced at $30, 750ml of Gree Goose at $52, Vanilla bean pods at $24, and, most critically, time and physical wellbeing invaluable.

Comparing against the Costco two-pack, which could be used immediately without a mandatory brewing period of six months:

• Homemade Vanilla: $106 for 750 ml = $0.1413/ml
• Costco: $7.99 for 910 ml = $0.0088/ml

A whopping sixteenfold price difference!!!

While some may argue that one can continue to use the vanilla beans to brew subsequent batches, it does not provide a rebate on the initial amount invested, and would involve further investment in hefty bottles of high-proof alcohol.

Results will be reported at the six-month mark, at minimum. My stance on time investment remains resolute, though.