Chicken and Egg - Janice Cole [19]
Add the eggs and the egg yolk, one at a time, beating each egg only until blended into the batter. Alternately add the flour mixture and buttermilk in thirds, beginning and ending with the flour mixture. Stir in the 8 ounces chopped chocolate. Gently ease the batter into the pan. Run a spatula or knife through the batter and tap the pan on the counter several times to eliminate air bubbles.
Bake for 50 to 60 minutes or until a wooden skewer inserted in the center of the cake comes out almost clean, with a few moist crumbs clinging to it. Cool in the pan on a wire rack for 10 minutes. Invert the cake onto the rack and remove the pan. Cool to room temperature.
To make the glaze: While the cake is cooling, put the 6 ounces chocolate, the butter, and corn syrup in a medium heat-proof bowl. Place over a saucepan filled with 1 inch of simmering water. Melt the chocolate, stirring occasionally until smooth.
Pour the glaze over the top of the cooled cake, letting the glaze drip down the sides. Let the glaze set before serving.
SERVES 12
CAKE
1 ½ cups all-purpose flour
¾ cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1 ¼ teaspoons baking powder
¼ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
¾ cup (1 ½ sticks) unsalted butter, softened
1 ½ cups packed dark brown sugar
¾ cup granulated sugar
1⁄3 cup canola oil
1 tablespoon strong coffee at room temperature
4 eggs plus 1 egg yolk at room temperature
¾ cup buttermilk
8 ounces bittersweet chocolate (60% cacao), chopped
GLAZE
6 ounces bittersweet chocolate (60% cacao), chopped
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut up
1 tablespoon dark corn syrup
CHAPTER THREE
Mid-Spring
The chicks invaded our space and took it over. We were like the parents of newborns whose lives are abruptly turned upside down. It was a blur of constant feeding, cleaning, watering, pooping, more cleaning, checking bottoms for pasted bums, holding, cuddling, and feeding some more. I was enthralled. I was also exhausted.
Baby chicks are like the Energizer bunny on speed—in constant motion. Like toddlers, they’re curious about the world around them. Had these chicks been hatched under a broody hen, their mother’s voice would have been imprinted on them while they were still in the shell. Instead, I became their surrogate mom. They became excited at the sound of my voice. As they grew, they even learned to recognize my footsteps. If my husband or sons stepped out onto the deck, the girls didn’t really respond. But as soon as I walked out, even when I hadn’t said a word, they came running.
None of the neighbors knew about the chicks, so the constant red glow in the front window from the light over the brooder began eliciting comments. My friend who lived across the street pounded on our door and demanded, “What’s with the red light—what’s going on over here?” Others made jokes or rude comments. Marty started enjoying himself for the first time since the chicks had arrived. He was delighted that the name Roxanne was appropriate after all.
I checked the brooder constantly. When the three chicks hugged the walls of the brooder like shy seventh-grade boys at their first dance, they were too hot. But when they huddled together under the heat lamp, reenacting a football scrum, they were too cold. I began obsessively raising and lowering the makeshift heat lamp inch by inch.
At night I’d pull up a chair and watch the girls while Marty watched sports. I tried to get him to watch my Reality Chick Show, but he’d glance and then turn back to his own program. He was a hard case. Chickens are natural comedians, sort of like Steve Martin or Chevy Chase. They’re funny just standing there doing nothing. Chickens force you to slow down, stop, and watch simply for the entertainment value. Our two cats were fascinated by them as well. They watched the chicks in their brooder as if the chicks were fish in an aquarium. I made sure the cover was secure.
The chicks quickly became the center of attention at our home.