Let not a book lie idle
Today, I celebrate a welcome new arrival on the port and share a recipe for a very easy, very French chocolate cake.
There is a new arrival on the port and it’s not a boat. A few weeks ago, a small metal box on a stand appeared in the little park in front of the house, a free library for locals and visitors to deposit and help themselves to books.
When I lived in London, there were many of these boxes in our neighbouring streets. They were mostly homemade, either basic – as simple as a cardboard box on a garden wall – or elaborate, with multiple shelves and glazed doors, painted in tasteful shades from leftover Farrow & Ball sample pots.
When the first box appeared on the port, the consensus on the village Facebook group was that this was a wonderful development, though someone did question why it was there, why not more centrally in the village? In the past week, two more have appeared, more centrally in the village, one by the church and another by the school. Of course, someone piped up to ask why they were wooden? Why aren’t all the mini libraries in the same style? In my experience, people are never more sniffy than when presented with free stuff.
When I was growing up in the North East, our local librarian told me that the books most frequently stolen from her library were ones about racing pigeons.
You can tell a lot about an area by the sort of books its residents like. When I was growing up in the North East, our local librarian told me that the books most frequently stolen from her library were ones about racing pigeons. When I lived in Stoke Newington, our bookseller admitted she had to keep Nigel Slater’s cookbooks behind the counter due to an unstoppable crime wave caused by light-fingered roast vegetable fans.
A quick glance at the shelves of our new little libraries shows a broad range of tastes, from Agatha Christie’s Rendez-vous à Bagdad and Helen Fielding’s Le Journal de Brigitte Jones, to the complete works of Baudelaire. The box by the school, perhaps unsurprisingly, has the most high-brow collection, including Jacques Prévert’s, La Pluie et Le Beau Temps and Stendhal’s Le Rouge et Le Noir, along with a smattering of Sigmund Freud, Alexander Solzhenitsyn and Voltaire. Come summer, I expect there’ll be more English language (and Swedish, and German) books in them as visitors keen not to exceed Ryan Air’s baggage allowance offload their holiday paperbacks. And perhaps I’ll start depositing some of my old cookbooks in there too. Keep your eyes on the port, food fans. But sorry, no Nigel Slater. I’m keeping them.
A book lying idle on a shelf is wasted ammunition. Like money, books must be kept in constant circulation.
Henry Miller
Simple French chocolate cake
This is the easiest of cakes to make and a version of it was the first French cake I ever made when I was thirteen years old, on my first French exchange. The top is crackled and the inside, soft and fudgy. It’s great on its own with a cup of coffee (and a book), as a goûter (snack) after school, or dressed up with some fruit and crème fraîche as a pudding. It’s even better the next day. When it’s cool, just seal it in an airtight container where it will keep well for two or three days.
Makes 1x22cm cake
200g dark chocolate, 60-70%, chopped into small pieces
200g butter, plus a little more for buttering the tin, cut into cubes
A good pinch of salt
120g caster sugar, or 80g caster sugar and 40g brown sugar – light or dark muscovado work well
60g plain flour, plus a little more for dusting the tin
3 eggs, lightly beaten
Heat the oven to 200C/180C Fan/Gas 6. Butter a loose-bottomed 21cm cake tin and dust lightly with flour, tapping out any excess. Line the bottom with baking parchment and butter the parchment.
Place a large-ish heatproof bowl (you’re going to make the whole cake in this bowl, so allow plenty of room) over a pan of barely simmering water – the bottom of the pan should not touch the water. Put the chocolate, butter and salt into the bowl and melt gently. Stir to make sure everything is smooth.
Tip the sugar or sugars onto the top of the melted butter and chocolate and leave for a minute, then beat very well with a whisk or handheld electric whisk until the mixture is very smooth and glossy. I do this for about 2 minutes with an electric whisk. Stir in the flour to combine, then slowly add the eggs, beating continuously. It will start to look gritty, but don’t panic. Keep beating until the mixture is silky.
Pour the batter into the prepared tin and place on a baking sheet in the oven. Immediately turn down the temperature to 160C/140C Fan/Gas 4 and bake the cake for 25-30 minutes – the outside should just be pulling away from the sides and the centre should still have a little wobble to it. Leave it to cool in the tin for 15 minutes before turning it out onto a plate.
Other things you can add…
This cake is delicious as it is, but here are few ideas to ring the changes from time to time.
A tablespoon of vanilla extract or brandy
The finely grated zest of an unwaxed orange with perhaps a pinch of cinnamon
A small handful of roughly chopped walnuts
Some sultanas soaked overnight in brandy, cognac or kirsch
Some raspberries scattered across the top just before baking
Market haul, 13 February 2024
A small market this week with lots of stalls missing, possibly because it was Shrove Tuesday. Or perhaps they were all just home practicing their kissing in time for Valentine’s Day.
This week’s market haul comprises: Chocolate from the Spar for the cake, celery, leeks, 13 eggs, as is traditional, a slab of Cantal, a cauliflower, tangerines, spinach.
Loved the cake, as did my husband and daughter! Just sorry that we got through it so quickly….. thanks for the recipe
Thanks to your reference to Nigel Slater's cookbooks being kept under lock and key, we watched the 2010 movie based on his childhood called: Toast. It's free on Amazon and is such a sweet, happy sort of movie that they really don't seem to make anymore! Thank you Debora! : )