Non-Erupting Chocolate Lava Cake

When I was younger, we lived in Maine for a couple years as my mom finished up her residency.  While she was working, from time to time my dad would take my sister and I on special lunch outings.  The trips were always fun; he would take us to the coolest little restaurants and cafés.  One of the restaurants that I loved, and that we went back to again and again was The Last Unicorn: a charming, aromatic (it had a rich cheesy, herb smell), little restaurant, that had the best cheese fondue.  Every time we went there, my dad would order the fondue plate; it came in a hot pot with sliced almonds and fresh bread and fruits on the side.  Delicious!

On one such outing, with just my dad and I, we stopped at The Last Unicorn in the late afternoon - past lunch, and too early for dinner - so my dad suggested I order something off the dessert menu.  I was happy to oblige. 

There must have been only four or five options to decide between but, being a kid and a lover of all things sweet, I couldn't pick just one!

But I must have taken a fair amount of time trying to, because I remember the waiter came to offer her suggestion: a chocolate lava cake... how could I say no?

At that age I had done my fair share of baking soda, "volcanic" experiments, so as I awaited the arrival of my exotic new dessert, I had a few expectations. And so, when the small cake was placed in front of me - a drizzle of melted chocolate on top - and I dug my fork into the soft cake, the warm chocolate lava slowly pouring out, it was delightful, but not what I had expected.  I was a bit disappointed at the absence of a fountain of chocolate streaming from the top.... But then again, how disappointed can you be with a warm, chocolate, heaven sitting right in front of you?

The answer of course is: not even a little. 

Soft and light on the outside, and warm and smooth inside, a lava cake is one of the most delightful, sweet desserts; and since that day the little cake has been top on my list.

Despite my love for these precious little things, I hadn't eaten another one since; so I was very excited to make these.  And this time around there was no disappointment at all; they came out wonderfully and I knew not to expect any chocolate geysers. 

A Warm Hello... and Even Warmer Pecan Sticky Buns

I think baking is one of the most exciting things.  When you lose yourself to the moment working your fists into a thick dough or you're struck with inspiration and a new idea turns out really well.  Baking is filled with these breathtaking moments: the agonizing ones, when you realize that your expectations didn't align with reality and you're left wondering what to do with an unappetizing tray of cookies; and then the wonderful moments when you open the door of the oven to see, and smell, something more delightful than you could have ever imagined.

Simply taking a bite of a warm, soft, treat, fresh from the oven, can be a magical experience in itself.  

For me, a warm, rich croissant is exactly that. 

It was a Thursday night, or it might have been a Saturday night, but either way the day didn't matter because I was still off from school, trying to enjoy the final hours of winter break, right down to the very last drop.  So I decided I would make croissants - well, pain au chocolat (weez ah french accent.)  It seemed fitting, perfect even.  When else would I have enough time to complete the long croissant-making process? (I had done my research on the topic.)  Just a few nights before, I had been perusing a new cookbook I got for Christmas, and was thrilled to find a recipe for none other than my beloved pain au chocolat.  I had a recipe, and plenty of time (not to be confused with thyme): it was fate!

I took out a couple of sticks of butter from the fridge, and scanned my way down the list of ingredients.

Butter

White flour

Salt

Active Dry Yeast

Lard

....lard?!?!

I have nothing against butter, sugar, or any of that other wonderful stuff that makes a pastry a pastry.  In fact, I love them all.  Eaten sparingly, butter is divine.  But there is an extent and, for me, that would be at lard.  

And so, the great pain au chocolat plan came to an end.

The Sweeter Side of Amy's Bread is one of my favorite cookbooks, and it's the book I always turn to when I am looking for that perfect recipe.  

One of the many things I love about this cookbook is the photos; each one seems as effortless as it is enticing.  There is never evidence of that food styling with prim and proper tablecloths and without a crumb or drip in sight.  With a spatula in the corner and the glaze dripping onto the countertop the photos seem much more authentic, and honest.