During the grueling
process of trying to figure out what to pack for my 5 month adventure abroad,
one thing that I thought would brilliantly supplement my experience in another
country would be to bring my recipe cards and try to cook a few of my favorite
dishes. Key word: try. I finally got my chance to do so in the form of my host
brother’s birthday because I knew chocolate cake was his favorite and I had
brought down my recipe for this cake:
The Triple
Chocolate-made from scratch-double layer cake…
I made it last
Christmas for my family and yes, it was as delicious as it looks. So I set my
mind to making the same thing for Rodrigo’s birthday party, regardless of the
fact that it’s one of my most complicated recipes (two index cards worth).
Here’s how that went.
Step 1: Translating
ingredients, converting units of measurement & making the shopping list –
This cake has quite a few interesting ingredients and the most challenging part
of this step was not only using the internet and various English-Spanish
dictionaries to translate the ingredients, but also explaining to my host mom why I needed both Baking Soda and Baking
Powder (which also turned into a mini chem lesson) and that Nesquick powder was
not a sufficient alternative to
unsweetened cocoa. Basically I was not only facing a language barrier, but also
a very serious cultural barrier about how to make cakes. This would be a
reoccurring theme throughout my endeavors.
Step 2: Buy
ingredients – Once I had my grocery list made, I headed to the local Vea to buy
the needed items. Luckily my friend Yona came along for Spanish/emotional
support and together (plus the help of one nice man who’d lived in Jersey for a
few years) we compiled the necessary items, or rather, what we believed was the
closest Argentine version to the necessary items. Unfortunately the store
didn’t have papel manteca (wax paper).
Step 3: Find papel
manteca – Worried about how my cake rounds would come out of the pan without my
trusty wax paper, I decided to try a few different places that could possibly
have wax paper. First I had to wait for siesta to end, but then I realized it
was Sunday, so long story short I had no luck finding the paper within walking
distance. Rodrigo then took me to Walmart (yes, sadly it does exist here) where
alas, they too did not have wax paper. This then marked the end of my hunt for
papel manteca (because if Walmart doesn’t have it who does right?) but I did
purchase Spiderman party hats for my brother, who was quite ecstatic at my
generosity.
Step 4: Make cake
rounds – Americans are very much rule followers. We have our recipes, we have
our measuring cups, we have our measuring spoons, we have our timers and our
clearly marked oven dials. Argentines are not so exact. A “tasa” is the closest
thing to a “cup” here and even that depends on whose house you’re in and which
water glass or coffee mug the owner hands you saying, “that’s about a tasa, más
or menos.” So basically my measuring of the ingredients came down to
eyeballing, which as we all know can be quite disastrous in the fine art of
baking. I was starting to get nervous. It also doesn’t help that “sour cream”
here tastes more like a combination of cream cheese and milk and also that measuring
spoons are non-existent. Nonetheless I persevered and luckily with the help of
my host mom’s electronic mixer (thank goodness she had one) and my trusty co-chef
Yona, the batter actually turned out a nice consistency and tasted like, well,
chocolate cake batter (how this happened is still up to debate).
Step 5: Light the oven
– Fortunately up till now my host mom was away visiting with friends so Yona
and I successfully commandeered her kitchen and were well into my recipe. The
only downfall was that we had no one to show us how to light the oven, because
yes, like the stove it too is a gas appliance. I had seen Dina do this once or
twice before, but I was definitely a bit nervous as causing explosions of fire
in your host family’s house is usually frowned upon. Yona and I schemed for a
bit debating how to turn on the gas (luckily we were able to narrow down which
dial did this fairly quickly) and then did our best to experiment and figure
out the mechanism to do so. This was amongst much squealing and giggling as
well as a lot of sniffing to decide if we were in fact actually turning on the
gas to light the oven. Finally we figured out we had to push the dial and I bravely lit the oven without burning anything.
(Dad this is once again a sign that I am no longer afraid of matches/fire).
Step 6: Set the oven
temperature – My recipe calls for 350 degrees Fahrenheit which in and of itself
is not helpful since everything down here is in Celsius, but the greater problem
was that the oven dial (and the coinciding temperatures) had worn off, so
setting the oven temperature also became a matter of guesstimation, which, if I
added it up right, meant that 99% of my recipe thus far was reliant on this
technique, “Is this sour cream? Guess so.” “Is this a cup? Looks about right” “Is
this 350 degrees? Sure!”
Step 7: Remain calm –
With the oven successfully lit and cake batter inside (hopefully cooking)
things seemed well on their way and I was starting to feel little sparks of
hope again that maybe, just maybe, this cake would actually be edible. Then
Dina came back home. Right away she started asking questions about how things
were going and after 10 minutes of banter watched over my shoulder as I checked
the cake in the oven. Not surprisingly (in part because I had to use a tall
glass baking pan) the middle of my cake was not wanting to cook. Exasperated I
closed the oven and started brainstorming when from behind me Dina says, “Have
you ever baked a cake before?”
For anyone who’s… well…
at all interacted with me, you know I can get a bit defensive. I froze, translating
and retranslating in my mind what she said. “Mamá” I said turning to her, “you
know everything is different here
right? The ingredients, your oven, the measurements…” “A tasa’s a tasa” she
responds.
Luckily an Argentine
friend of the family that was over for the festivities saved Dina from the
onslaught of English/Spanish words I was about to throw at her about how a “tasa”
changes from place to place anywhere you go in Argentina, much less trying to
make the conversion work from a cup which is very exact in the United States.
After that, I decided to ignore Dina as I continued cooking, only giving her
short answers when she needed something and trying to keep my patience. I was
trying so hard and I could NOT believe she didn’t understand how difficult this
project was. It gave me all the more motivation to salvage my cake and make
things work.
Step 8: Salvage the
cake rounds – As I mentioned, the first cake round was not cooking in the
middle, and it didn’t seem like it ever would, so I eventually took it out and
put the second round in in a much wider, shallower glass dish, praying this
might bring better results. After it had cooled some, I decided to dump out my
first round to see what I could salvage and was pleasantly surprised that it
had cooked more than I expected, in fact it actually looked like a cake round
(see picture at left). Ok so maybe it was a slightly mutant cake round, but hey
it was circular in shape and had volume so still better than expected! Then I
pulled out the second round, which had cooked much better, and after it “cooled”
(no such things as cooling racks here) I dumped it out too. Alas, this is when
I needed my trusty papel manteca because large chunks of this round stuck to
the pan. Looked like my vegetable oil spray and flour concoction as a
substitute would only go so far.
But wait! After some
creative reconstructive surgery using the pieces left in the pan and smooshing
the round into a more, well, round shape, I was pleasantly surprised to find
that not only did my second cake round look like a cake round, it was the same size as my first cake round!
Argentine baking
system – 0
Lisa’s creativity – 1
Step 9: Put the cake
together – after hand making whipped cream, into which I folded milk chocolate,
and then making the dark chocolate glaze, it came time to construct the final
product. I was so nervous to move my nicely recreated cake rounds, but (whilst
holding my breath the whole time) I managed to flip the first atop the second
round with whipped cream mixture squished nicely in between. With much fanfare
then, I made Rodrigo watched as I poured the dark chocolate glaze over the top
of the cake and spread it over the sides. Finally completed! And while I will
say it was not quite the beauty I made for Christmas last year, (rather a more
Frankenstein version), I was still darn proud of that cake and given that all
the parts tasted good alone (cake rounds, whipped cream milk chocolate filling,
and dark chocolate glaze) I was banking on it being a pretty fabulous concoction
altogether, Argentine baking system aside.
Step 10: Blow out the
candle! – All the frustration, all the anxiety, and all the work was worth it
for this picture below, Rodrigo blowing out his birthday candle on my,
made-from-scratch triple-chocolate birthday cake. Unfortunately at this point
it was about midnight and as I was fighting a cold and could hardly swallow
(another detail that made the whole process a little less enjoyable) I could
hardly keep my eyes open. I succumbed to my bedroom before the first piece was
distributed, praying everyone would enjoy it, but too exhausted to try it
myself.
Bonus Step: Make
amends with host mom – While lying in bed, so ready for sleep, I heard a quiet
knock at my door and Dina asking if she could come in. “Sí, mama” I say,
running through my head what she could possibly want now. “Your cake was
amazing” she said, “I ate two pieces and everyone loves it” and she gave me a
big hug. I hugged her back, thankful for this little acquiesce on her part.
Guess I know how to make a cake after all.
The next morning, I
woke up late still feeling pretty crummy and set to work on some Spanish
assignment in my PJs. Rodrigo this time tapped on my door holding a piece of my
cake and some tea for my breakfast. He was so appreciative and said everyone
enjoyed it. Satisfied, I finally got to sit back and try my Frankenstein
monster of a cake, which tasted like a triple chocolate-made from
scratch-double layer cake – amazing.
A testament to this
fact is that only the small section seen in the photo at right was left over
from the party (and the store-bought cake Dina had bought was untouched). I
told my girlfriends there was a little left for them to try, but by the time
they made their way over to my place (about noon) the rest of it was already
gone. “You’ll have to make it again!” they said.
Ready for round two of
Lisa in the kitchen Argentina?
- Lisa en Argentina
P.S. A few weeks later
Dina overfilled her glass cake pan with batter and it bubbled over while
baking. It was all I could do to resist saying, “have you ever made a cake
before?”
Argentine baking
system – 0
Lisa’s creativity –
infinity
