Birthday Cake

Growing up, birthdays meant multiple trips to Prantls Bakery, a small family-owned establishment in the east end of Pittsburgh. The first trip was an early morning cupcake run so I could celebrate at school with my classmates; the next drive by was to get a couple dozen rolls for the family party, and the final stop was to get my birthday cake - the shop's signature Burnt Almond Torte - a multi-level masterpiece that became synonymous with all cake-cutting rituals.

The sweet, almond encrusted delicacy provided the curtain call at just about all of my parties: after skating to the Limbo and Hokey-Pokey at Ardmore Roller Rink, after playing on very novel devices called computers at The Factory, after skiing at Hidden Valley, dining at the original Mad Mex, and watching Star Wars, and after making the trip across a couple states in my Mom's trunk, my birthday cake always had my family and friends craving just a little slice more of custard filled heaven. Or if they were like me, picking out every stray almond left in the box.  

This past week, a corridor that marked both Peter's birthday and mine, my parents came out to visit, Mary started blowing kisses, there were presents, cards, dinners out, and champagne; but there was something missing and no amount of Fannie Mae meltaways could compensate.

So when Peggy and Jan decided to host a little joint birthday party last night, I volunteered to bring the cake and with it the Burnt Almond Torte. To my knowledge, Prantl's doesn't ship, so I started from scratch. (With a little help.)

The recipe must be a closely guarded secret because while there were articles and reviews of the cake, I couldn't find a copycat recipes. The closest I came was a blogger who called her burnt almond beauty a cake instead of a torte. So I proceeded with her instructions, creating my own wiggle room as I whisked. 

Basically, a burnt almond torte has four components: sponge cake, buttercream icing, custard, and caramelized almonds. This go around, what I'm deeming practice for Mary's birthday cake, I feel like I aced the custard, but the other parts left room for improvement. The cake could be spongier, the icing fluffier and the almonds a little less caramelized.  

So I'm not going to publish the recipe (yet.) You'll have to wait a week or so. Instead, I'll share the sweet finale to our Valentine's dinner - little chocolate covered orange peels - that almost (almost) compensated for my birthday cake craving.

Lo.

Orangettes

Ingredients: 
1 orange segmented
1 cup sugar
1 cup of water
6 ounces semi sweet chocolate, melted

Directions:
Cut orange peel into thin strips. Blanch in boiling water and set aside. (This removes the bitterness.)

In a medium sauce pan bring sugar and water to a boil. Add orange peels and let caramelize until they are just turning a little tan. Keep stirring as the mixture reduces and keep an eye on it. It can go from soupy to burnt very quickly. Remove orange peels and let cool on a wire rack.

In a double boiler, melt chocolate. Dip each orange peel in chocolate and lay on sheet of parchment paper. When all complete, refrigerate for a couple hours. Serve at room temperature.