With thanks to Kip for bringing this cherry chocolate mousse recipe under our attention
In Defense of Poor, Maligned Chocolate
By NIGELLA LAWSON
We all know the allure of forbidden fruit, but chocolate seems to suffer from its naughty-but-nice image. The cocoa bean is both lusted after and demonized, so much so that eating anything made from it is often deemed a deviant pleasure: sweet, rich, fattening, sinful.
I argue for the solemn dignity of the cocoa bean. It is usually what is added to chocolate that makes its natural chic taste cheap. Good dark chocolate, the sort that's best to eat and definitely the only one to cook with, is smoky and elegant, and some studies indicate that it is also good for you.
Arguments in favor of the health attributes of a foodstuff we generally think we should avoid can sound suspicious, but certain facts are undeniable: bittersweet chocolate with a minimum of 70 percent cocoa solids is rich in phosphorous, potassium, magnesium, iron and antioxidants that can protect against cancer and heart disease. On top of that, chocolate also contains phenylethylamine, a chemical that induces a sense of well being and happiness.
But I think the best argument for the chocolate mousse and cake here is that you cannot truly say you live well unless you eat well.
Both of these recipes are easy to make. Strictly speaking, a chocolate mousse is never difficult, but it has one major pitfall. If chocolate gets too hot when it is melted in a microwave or over a pan of simmering water, it can turn into a dull, lumpy mess, a problem known as seizing. I avoid that situation by melting the chocolate with liquid in a pan.
Because I wanted a cherry-chocolate mousse, the liquid I chose was cherry brandy, the sweet viscous red liqueur (not the transparent fire-water that is kirsch, though you could use it as a substitute). If you prefer the idea of a chocolate orange mousse, substitute Cointreau. Rum works well, too. Or you could use coffee in place of the alcohol.
Whatever you use, this is a not-very-sweet, very grown up chocolate mousse, and well worth keeping under your belt for Valentine's Day.
Julia Child wrote that the Gateau Reine de Saba was the first French cake she ever ate. My version differs somewhat from hers, being simpler to make. Again, I melt the chocolate with liquid, and I use all ground almonds rather than the traditional mixture of flour and almonds. I like my Reine de Saba to be slightly more like pudding and voluptuously melting. As "Reine de Saba" is French for Queen of Sheba, this seems entirely fitting.
It also makes this cake eminently suitable for those who are gluten-intolerant. A little of this cake goes very far. You can easily get 12 slices out of this cake, so each person isn't consuming a huge amount of sugar.
But to be defensive is to end on the wrong footing. A cake this good does you good, both body and soul.
