The Chocolate-Almond Daim Cake

Long, long, ago (well, in 2005, actually...), I wrote up a little review on that most refreshing shopping oasis: the IKEA snack bar. Since then, hundreds of interested souls have traveled to this very website in search of a recipe for the Daim Cake I mentioned. Although that wasn't the intention of the original article, who am I to turn away a gang of hungry travelers?

To that end, I bring you: the homemade Daim Cake.

And now for a quick disclaimer.... IKEA's official website propaganda describes their Daim Cake as: "An original cake made out of Daim candy and almond cake."

For my Daim Cake (well, cakelets, really), I make almond cakes with crushed Daim bars and a simple chocolate ganache. If you've eaten the IKEA original, you can't help but notice that my version is less a thin, flat torte and more an individual snack cake. In fact, I think my version is more like what snack cakes should be... small, cute and made without industrial preservatives.

But yes... this Daim Cake is different. If you need thin tortes, go to IKEA. If you want something that ranks high in the "tasty" category, is simple to whip up and fun to assemble and eat (not to mention something that will probably impress the hell out of your neighborhood coffee klatch), give this recipe a whirl.


Daim bars in their natural habitat... my kitchen.

Now then: The first step (and this may be the hardest part of the process) is locating the Daim bars. I found mine at The Sweet Life on the Lower East Side, but if you're not a Manhattanite, you can probably search for them at your local IKEA food shop or a neighborhood candy store that cares. Barring that, substitute the Skor bar, which is awfully similar to the Daim and much, much easier to find here in the states.

You'll need one Daim bar to accommodate three mini-cakes. Making the full recipe (six cakes)? Get two bars. Get three if you're snacky. Put them in the freezer when you get them home.


Unadorned mini almond cakes

For the almond cakes, you'll need a standard-size muffin tin and:

• 2 Tbsp. flour and a tsp. butter (for greasing and flouring the tin)


• 8oz sweetened almond paste (this is often sold in a can)


• 3 fresh eggs, separated


• 2 Tbsp. cream


• 3 Tbsp. pastry flour/cake flour


• 1 tsp. powdered sugar

1. Preheat the oven to 350°F. Grease and flour six cups in a standard-size muffin tin.
2. Blend together the almond paste, egg yolks and cream until they form a smooth, thick, almond-scented mixture. Incorporate the flour.
3. In a separate bowl, whisk the egg whites with the teaspoon of powdered sugar until you achieve firm, white peaks.
4. Scoop about half of the whipped egg whites into the almond mixture and fold it in until all the white is incorporated.
5. Scoop the remaining half of the whipped whites into the almond mixture and fold it in. Don't overwork the mixture at this point.
6. Fill six cups in the muffin tin with the batter. (In a 12-hole tin, I usually alternate filled cups with empty cups so it's balanced.)
7. Cook for 20-25 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center of one of the cakes comes out without batter stuck to it.
8. Cool 5-10 minutes in the tin, then run a butter knife around the edge of each cake to help release them from the pan. Be free, little cakes!

Assembling the Chocolate-Almond Daim Cakes

Once you have cooled cakes, use a serrated knife to cut the rounded tops off. These are tasty. Eat one now, and save the rest for later snacking... maybe with berries and whipped cream. Yum.

Bisect each cake so you have two equally-sized tiers to work with.

Take the Daim bars out of the freezer. Don't unwrap them. Immediately throw them down onto the kitchen floor as hard as you can. Pick them up and throw them again. Do this again if it makes you feel good. You're trying to shatter them as much as possible without sending chunks of chocolate flying across your kitchen. Once those bars are appropriately pummeled, open up the packages and pour out the pieces onto your cutting board. Chop up any large hunks so you have a nicely uniform "crumb."

Now make the chocolate ganache in a small saucepan with:

• 2 cups of chocolate pieces (I think IKEA uses milk chocolate, but I prefer semi-sweet or dark, myself)


• 1/3 cup cream


• 1 Tbsp. butter

Combine the chocolate, cream and butter in a saucepan over very, very low heat. Whisk all the lumpy chocolate bits until the sauce is smooth and shiny. Don't let it burble. Burbling is bad in this case.

Take apart the bisected cakes and lay them out on across a sheet pan you've covered in a protective layer of parchment, wax paper or plastic.

Use a small rubber spatula or a butter knife to spread a thin layer of chocolate ganache over the tops of the lower layers and the bottoms of the uppper layers. Evenly sprinkle about a half-teaspoon of the Daim bar crumbs on each ganache-coated bottom layer (like the middle cake in the photo above), then put the tops on 'em (like the cake in the foreground).

Cover each cake with a smooth layer of ganache, sprinkle another half-teaspoon or so of crumbs on the tops, and finish the cakes by spreading another teaspoon or so of ganache across the Daim-crumb-topped cakes.

You should be able to smooth out most irregularities in the ganache with a butter knife that you've warmed in a glass of hot water... but don't get crazy about it. They should look a little irregular. It's better that way.

See? Tasty, simple and fun to make.

Cool the cakes at room temperature until the chocolate firms up, and serve 'em with hot coffee. Spare yourself the mad IKEA crowds, and dream of furniture-assembly instructions that make sense.

Labels: chocolate, recipes, sweets

Granola and yogurt with fresh strawberries from MissGinsu @ Flickr

"...Manson’s violent, antisocial behavior might have been avoided if only he had put some chopped walnuts in his granola."

- Kristin Meyers | Joby Martin in the Monterey County Weekly

Find more crunchy, nutty food quotes here.

Labels: brekkie, food quotes, Friday, nutrition

Ginger-Duck Soup at the Slanted Door in San Francisco. I would eat this constantly if I were given the opportunity.

"I don't belive in putting a nuance of ginger in a dish such that you can barely taste it. If you say there is ginger in the sauce, you should really be able to taste it."

- Chef Ming Tsai

Find another batch of spicy food quotes here.

Labels: chefs, food quotes, Friday, ginger

Migratory laborers cutting celery, Belle Glade, FL, January 1941 via the NYPL digital gallery

Maybe you bought too much for a recipe, and now it's just sitting around the bottom of your crisper. Maybe you got one in your Christmas stocking. Maybe your favorite farmer wanted to give you a little something extra, and now you don't know what to do with it.

It doesn't matter how you got it. You're stuck with a celery root — that knobby, crispy vegetable also known as celeriac — and you don't want the poor thing to go to waste. And there's no need. Celeriac is delicious, and it plays well with others.

Herein, find 7 Easy Ways to Use Your Extra Celery Root
(In relative order of simplicity.)

1. Roasted Celeriac:
Peel a celery root and slice into into evenly sized pieces. Toss in a bowl with a drizzle of olive oil and a pinch of both salt and freshly ground black pepper. Roast on a sheet tray/cookie sheet in a 375°F oven, stirring every 15 minutes to avoid uneven cooking, until lightly browned and tender. Serve as a side dish on their own, cool and toss into a green salad with your favorite vinaigrette.

2. Celery Root Mash:
Peel a celery root and slice into into evenly sized pieces (you want them to cook uniformly). Put the pieces in a medium-sized pot and cover with water. Add a teaspoon of salt to the pot and bring the water to a boil. Reduce to a simmer, and when the celeriac is tender enough to crush (about 30 minutes), drain away the water. Mash the pieces with 1/2 cup of heavy cream. (You can use a food processor for this step. Celery root doesn't get gluey like overworked potatoes.) Season to taste with salt, ground black pepper and ground nutmeg. Serve as a side dish.

3. Braised Celeriac:
Peel a celery root and slice into into evenly sized pieces. Heat a teaspoon of olive oil in a medium-sized skillet on moderate heat until shimmering, but not smoking. Add the celeriac pieces to the pan. Keep the celeriac pieces moving in the pan, coating them with the oil. Sprinkle on a grind or two of pepper and a pinch of salt. Serve hot.

4. Céleri Remoulade:
Peel and grate or shred 1 celery root. In a small bowl, use a whisk to combine 1/3 cup mayonnaise, 3 tablespoons white wine vinegar, 1 teaspoon Dijon mustard and 2 tablespoons heavy cream. If you have some tarragon or parsley, chop it and add a teaspoon or so to the dressing. Taste and season with salt and pepper. Toss the dressing with the celery root shreds and chill. Makes a great first course or vegetable side... and it's delicious alongside smoked salmon for brunch.

5. Cream of Celeriac Soup:
1 large celery root, peeled and cut into uniform pieces
2 cups chicken or vegetable stock
1/2 cup heavy cream
Salt and ground black pepper and ground nutmeg, to taste

Put the pieces in a medium-sized pot, cover with stock and bring to a boil. Lower the heat and simmer, until pieces are fork-tender (timing depends on the size of the pieces). Carefully purée the celery root with the stock in a blender (or, preferably, using an immersion blender or "stick" blender.) Stir in the cream, season with salt and pepper, to taste. Sprinkle on ground nutmeg as a garnish.

After about 5 to 8 minutes, the celeriac should show a little color. Reduce the temperature to medium-low, and add about a 1/4 cup of chicken, veal or vegetable stock to the pan. Stir, cover the skillet and allow the vegetables to steam until they become tender and the stock simmers away. If the celeriac is still too firm when the liquid is gone, add a little more stock or water to the pan. Serve as a side dish.

6. Apple-Celeriac Slaw:
1 celery root, peeled and shredded
1-2 tart apples, shredded or thinly sliced
1 carrot, grated
1 scallion, thinly sliced on the bias
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1/4 cup mayonnaise
Salt and black pepper, to taste
1-2 tablespoons chopped parsley, chives or tarragon (optional)
Blend the shredded celery root, apples, carrot (if using) and scallion in a bowl. In another small bowl, combine the mayonnaise, lemon juice and parsley, if using. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Combine the shreds and dressing. Serve immediately, or chill for up to 30 minutes.

7. Celeriac-Potato Latkes: (Feeds 8 to 10 as a side)
1 large celery root, peeled
3 large russet potatoes, peeled and trimmed
1 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 large yellow onion, peeled
2/3 cup unbleached, all-purpose flour
4 large eggs, lightly beaten
1 1/4 teaspoons salt
1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper
1 1/2 cups vegetable oil (for frying)
Applesauce and/or grated horseradish (optional, for serving)

Place a metal rack on a sheet tray in the center of the oven, and heat the oven to 200°F.

Coarsely grate the celery root, onions and potatoes into a bowl. Add lemon juice and stir to combine. Transfer the mixture to a colander, pressing out as much liquid as possible. Return to the bowl and stir in flour, eggs, salt and pepper.

Heat about 1/2 inch oil in a skillet over moderately high heat until the oil is hot but not smoking. Spoon about 1/4 cup vegetable mix into the hot skillet, using a spatula to flatten the mound into a pancake (about 1/2-inch thick). Add 1 to 2 more latkes, avoiding any crowding in the pan. Fry one side 2 to 3 minutes, carefully flip the latke and continue to fry until golden, about 1 1/2 to 3 minutes more. Remove golden latkes from the oil and drain briefly over paper towels before transferring to the warming tray in the oven. Fry the rest of the veggie mix in same way. Serve with applesauce and/or grated horseradish, if desired.

Labels: advice, recipes, veggies

Some richly hued rainbow chard leaves from my CSA

"Life expectancy would grow by leaps and bounds if green vegetables smelled as good as bacon."

-The (possibly fabricated?) English writer, Doug Larson, (1902-1981)

Labels: food quotes, Friday, veggies

Symbols of gratitude and danger living in perfect harmony. Image: NYPL digital library.

My boss asked me to track down a traditional "thank you" food.

He wanted to give that unknown thing as a gift of appreciation to our best customers. It seemed like a good idea. I'd just do some research, discover that flash-frozen steaks were a universally acknowledged symbol of goodwill and esteem, and out they'd go. Boss happy. Customers happy. Easy-peasy, right?

On the ensuing search for consumables as symbols of appreciation, I discovered... well, it's not so easy. I should have known. Symbolic meaning is relative. More than that, it's local. So there's not a lot in the way of universally recognizable representations. Particularly not in the way of food items, which have traditionally tended to be very local.

Oh sure, you'll find quite a few quasi-universal symbols out there. There are flags to represent nations, the white cross, which generally symbolizes medical help, the golden arches, which symbolize heart failure and the swoosh, which means I'm about to pay a surcharge for a piece of clothing. But the great efforts used to make those symbols into something globally recognizable was intentional. And, generally, well financed.

The more organically occurring symbolic representations tend to be "readable" only by those in certain groups, or regions.

When I grew up in the Dakotas, I attended pow wows, sweats and other events at which tobacco was a gift that demonstrated respect and appreciation. Presenting someone in Manhattan with a nice pouch of fresh tobacco probably wouldn't read the same way. Particularly in this "tobacco as symbol of death and/or decadence" era.

So back in the frustrating realm of my food symbol quest, it seems that a pineapple might say "hospitality" to me (this fellow has a nice rundown of why the pineapple has historically been recognized in that capacity... I love the bit about how pineapples used to be rented short-term for parties in order to demonstrate one's status and taste), but it might just suggest "Hawaiian cocktails" (or even worse, "Williams-Sonoma") to our customers.

The slaughtered lamb was once pretty widely used as a dramatic "thanks a lot" gesture, but again... it's all about location, location, location. And context. Symbols are language, meaning, of course, that the recipient of the symbol has to speak your language.

I submitted my findings. He ended up sending out boxes of chocolate.

But now that I think about it, considering our best customers are high-spending NYC food buyers, maybe a box of steaks wasn't such a bad idea as a symbol of appreciation after all. It's extravagant and not really not that far afield from the slaughtered lamb. And isn't extravagance nearly always recognized as symbolic of appreciation?

In no particular order, some of my findings on food symbols and their meanings:

Apple = appreciation (generally of teachers), temptation, New York
Peach = longevity, marriage
Pear = affection
Olive = peace, healing
Garlic = strength
Gourds = good health, longevity
Chocolate = devotion, love
Fish = faith (Christian faith in particular)
Rabbit = fertility
Lotus Root = unconditional love
Lamb = faith (again, it's about Jesus)
Maple Syrup = Canada, eh
Pineapple = hospitality, welcome
Pumpkin = prosperity, festivity, harvest
Pomelo, basket/cornucopia, sheaf of wheat = bounty
Slaughtered lamb, tobacco = appreciation, gratitude
Rosemary = fidelity, remembrance
Pomegranate = fertility
Lavender = good luck
Salt = wealth, loyalty, incorruptibility, immortality
Honey = wealth, happiness
Turnips = charity
Pepper = lust, spice
Fig, bamboo, pig = prosperity
Banana = hey... sometimes a banana is just a banana, okay?

Labels: chocolate, fruit, reference, veggies

Yeah, I've been slacking a bit on my previously stated mission to share 100 wonderful and tasty things. Sorry about that. I'm resolving to be more consistent.

But I know ya'll like pretty pictures, so my (very slowly growing) directory of really awesome food things continues today with five succulent snacks in a pretty little photo essay.

If you've missed the count from 1-5, 6-10 or 11-15, you'll find 'em at the archive page. Meanwhile...


16. Nuts and candies from The Sweet Life, 63 Hester St (at Ludlow), NYC


17. The fine brines from Wheelhouse Pickles, representing in Brooklyn, yo.


18. Creamy little Mexicali avocados from Ferry Marketplace in San Francisco.


19. Oaxacan tamales at La Loma in Minneapolis.


20. Chili-lime mango slices from a street vender along Grand street just below the Broadway Junction JMZ subway stop in Brooklyn.

Labels: Hedonista 100, pickles, recommended, snacks, sweets, veggies