Moccatorte
My childhood trips to Switzerland were primarily spent on the shore of the Walensee in Walenstadt, which remains, in my opinion, the best lake swimming in the country. (Although it has definitely changed a lot since the 90s—I’m looking at you lakeside musical).
My mom, her sister, my cousins and their various friends would be swarming around, swimming out to the diving board, tumbling about on inflatable devices (the best year was when we inherited someone’s old, giant inflatable turtle), gathering in a large circle to bounce around a soccer ball, beginning and quickly abandoning books, games of badminton and UNO, and waiting for that magic time in the afternoon when we could finally hit up the Kiosk for some ice cream.
Over the years I probably tried every kind of novelty ice cream and popsicle: Magnum bars, Calippo, Twister, cornets, and my all-time favourite, Pralinato (for nostalgia pur, try this). But our moms, and the moms from nearly every group at the lakeside seemed to always get the same thing: Café Glace.
A little tub of coffee flavoured ice cream.
I’ve tried it. It’s fine. But it’s no Pralinato.
Today, when we end up at the lake or somewhere similar with my cousins and our moms, now grandmothers, they still get Café Glace. Every single time. And some of my mom-cousins have started ordering it too. Is it inevitable? Will I one day forgo a Pralinato for a little tub and a rough wooden spoon? I inquired with my mom.
“It’s not my favourite,” says the woman who has ordered it exclusively for three quarters of a century, “but, coffee-flavoured things are nice” she said, shrugging.
With that in mind, I made her this coffee-flavoured Moccatorte for her birthday last week.
(If anyone would like to make me a Pralinato-flavoured birthday cake this year, I would happily accept).
Elisabeth Fülscher’s classic Kochbuch inspired my cake, and I used a version of her sponge and buttercream. You can decorate as you see fit—I used grated chocolate, but chocolate-covered cocoa beans perched on frosting swirls are classic.
For the sponge:
5 eggs
160 g sugar
pinch salt
140 g flour
1 tbsp strong coffee
1 tbsp amaretto
For the frosting:
200 g butter
170 g icing sugar
2-3 tbsp coffee
1 tbsp amaretto
Preheat oven to 180 C / 350 F / gas mark 4.
Line the bottom of a 24 cm (9 inch) spring form with parchment paper, then grease the sides.
Using a stand mixer with a whisk attachment, whip the eggs until frothy, then add the sugar and the salt. Keep whipping until it is thick and pale and the whisk makes ribbons in the mixture. Alternately, you can do this by hand, it will just take much longer.
Whisk in the coffee and amaretto.
Sift in half of the flour, folding it in gently. Then sift and fold in the rest of the flour.
Gently spread into the prepared pan, then bake for about 25-30 minutes or until the top springs back when you (gently) press it and the sides come away from the sides of the pan.
Once the cake is out of the oven, let cool completely.
For the frosting:
In a large bowl, beat the butter until soft and fluffy. Add the icing sugar and beat until smooth.
Beat the coffee and amaretto into the frosting.
To assemble:
Slice a very thin layer off the top of the cake, then slice the cake itself in half.
Put a few strips of parchment or wax paper along the border of your serving plate, and a small blob of buttercream in the centre (this will hold the cake in place).
Place one half of the cake on top of the buttercream blob.
Brush with a bit of amaretto, then cover with buttercream.
Put the second half of the cake on top, then cover with buttercream. If desired, grate some chocolate and press it into the sides.
Make sure your eggs are really room temperature, or they won’t whip up enough. If they are straight from the fridge, warm them in a water bath.
I’ve made this cake many times, and tried all sorts of coffee flavourings, but by far my favourite (and the strongest ‘coffee’ flavour) is by using instant coffee like Nescafe. I usually just dissolved a tablespoon or two in the amaretto.
If you don’t have amaretto, use another booze, like rum or a different coffee liqueur.
Another great cake?
Zuger Kirschtorte
