Salted Caramel Chocolate Cake

I have recently had a culinary triumph. You may recall that we have a rather elaborate way of celebrating birthdays in our office. We have quite a few foodies on our staff, and we always like to go all out for a celebration. No supermarket cakes for us! Our office has got quite a reputation throughout the organization for slap up feasts and parties.

We recently had a special birthday. Anything that ends with a 5 or a 0 is special. This was 30, so a BIG DEAL! I volunteered to make the cake.

The birthday girl is our regular in-house pastry chef. She is a lover of fancy deserts and cakes and routinely brings in delectable treats for the office to enjoy. I knew I had to make her something special. 

I will admit to a certain amount of pride at stake. Several staff members asked if Annette could make her own cake, because they enjoy her creations so much. I knew I had to show them I could make a cake just as delicious!

One of Annette's favorite things to bake is a Salted Caramel tart. I will be frank. I do not like it. I am not a huge fan of caramel at the best of times. Give me chocolate all the way.  I also do not get the salty / sweet combo. It is like my mouth does not understand it!

Despite my personal feelings I searched out a salty caramel birthday cake for Annette. I tried Pioneer Woman and Bakearella, to no avail. I scanned the web and found a few possibilities. Then it dawned on me. Martha. Of Course!

I used the Martha Stewart Sweet and Salty cake as my basic staring point and played around some.

I had never, ever made caramel before. Daunting! If it is not just right it will not work. More science than cooking. Also, we do not use corn syrup in Australia. After much internet-substitution searching Hubs found me a bottle in a specialist baking store. It. Was. Expensive. Please email me other recipes I can use this in. 

I kept Martha right with me the whole time. She encouraged and cheered me from the iPad!

I had to slice two cakes to get the four layers I wanted. I cooked one at a time to ensure optimal cooking temperature for both cakes (..... and because I only have one springform pan in that size.... but the first bit sounded better). Please ignore the smear of cake batter on the oven door. Nobody is perfect. 

Making the caramel ganache was amazing. I am not sure what I would have done without my trust Robot Mixer (KitchenAid)! I turned out so silky and shiny and gorgeous. I did then understand why liquid corn syrup is used rather than a course solid sweetening option.

I made a crumb layer! I had to research this. When I first saw it referred to on a blog I thought it was actually a layer of crumbs..... I went to Law School not Culinary School!


Anyway! An additional layer of buttercream never hurt anyone!

Then it was time for the ganache. The wonderful, smooth, creamy, salty, ganache. Remember when I said I didn't like caramel? Or sweet salty things? 


This was like a party in my mouth. I wanted to have this on toast and on sandwiches and to squeeze it on my toothbrush to brush my teeth with it. It was AMAZING.

I topped the cake with caramel Hershey's Kisses. 

I know I have pictures of it cut open to see the cross section but I cannot find them. It was four layers of wonderful cake and in between was frosting and caramel. It was so rich and decadent.


The cake was a huge hit with the birthday girl. Hubs feasted on left over ganache and did not sleep for several days.


Thanks for the help Martha!

The natural way

Yesterday I visited the natropath* to discuss my lady part issues. Jane is a family friend who I have known for years.

She was very cranky that I had left it until now to visit her.** She has a "very strict fertility regimen" which frightens me.  I worry that I am in for the no cheese no hot/cold beverage diet that Kate is on.

For now we are focusing on getting my body ready for surgery. After that - Baby Boot Camp.

Jane does iridology. She is AMAZING. She can look in my eyes and tell me the most specific things about my body and how I feel.

What Jane told me yesterday was no big shock. I am one anxious, sad and exhausted little lady. I have had treatment from Jane for anxiety related issues in the past. Both Eastern and Western medicine agree that my central nervous system will never function at 100%. I am prone to anxiety and depression. My current health problems compound this with wacky hormonal elements.

Jane has given me a number of treatments to help sooth away the rawest of the nerves and build my strength before the surgery. These include (in addition to the pre-pregnancy vitamins I already take) a zinc supplement, prelumar and a tonic of herbs.

Ladies, let me tell you about this tonic.

This tonic is so awful. It is so awful in a way that means it must be really really good for me.

This tonic is so awful, I want to freeze it and make my future children drink it when they are really naughty. 

Or when, as teenagers, they accuse me of hating them because I won't let them go to the party in the boyfriend's space-mobile, or whatever kids are driving in 2025. You think I hate you? I drank THIS to get pregnant with you.

Looks evil, right? 7.5 mils of brown liquid evil, twice per day. I take it like a shot, then rinse my mouth with juice and eat Goldfish crackers. I hope the cheesey crackers aren't negating the power of the tonic??

Maybe I should find a more natural mouth stabilizer.

The things we do for children! I'll bet this turns out to be the easy part.....

* I am also seeing an OB/GYN and having the full Western medical treatment, including surgery. My natural medicine jaunt is purely supplementary. I would always encourage you to see a doctor you trust as well as a natural medicine practitioner.

** Why I could not visit Jane is actually a really funny story. Her clinic is in her house. I have been involved in this really long case at work and one of the key witnesses is a CAH-RAZY man. Manipulative, bunny boiling, passed himself off as a lawyer and got into my secure office, CAH-RAZY.  Well, Mr CAH-RAZY lived next door to Jane. Of all the natropaths in Sydney, he had to live next to mine.

Hubs and I talked about parking in a different street, wearing a disguise, asking Jane to meet elsewhere. Nothing seemed safe enough. Luckily, Jane recently moved. Perfect!

Walking wounded

I sprained my ankle. I wish I had a cool story, like I was roller blading at the beach, but no.

I wish I had a heroic story, like I chased robbers who were trying to mug an old lady. Sadly, no.

I wish I had a dramatic story, like I was thrown form a runaway horse, no.

What happened? I tripped. Over nothing. Perfectly smooth strip of concrete. I went base over apex.

Did I hit the deck? No! I managed to right myself by running out of the stumble. Like a totally crazy person.

Let me set the scene for you:

It is a cold Autumnal morning. A sophisticated glamorous lawyer hurries to the train station. Her mind is racing with litigation strategy and complex evidentiary issues
(she is not at all thinking about So You Think You Can Dance...... )

She wears a smart suit, coat a gloves. Very stylish. A freshly brewed Starbucks (home brew) steams in her hand.

Busy commuters rush about, concerned with their own affairs.

Suddenly, without any provocation, the glamorous lawyer simultaneously yelps and leaps into the air in a terrible rendition of a Jakob Karr jete. She hits the ground on one foot and a jaunty angle. Time freezes. Every single person stares, expecting her to stack it on the concrete.

Instead, she runs like a mad woman, using the momentum to correct her balance. Once she slows down she becomes aware of the intense pain radiating up her right leg.

Every single person is still staring at her. Instead of sitting down on the path and bursting into tears, she hobbles up the stairs with a defiant toss of her hair.

Not a drop of coffee was spilled.





That was 24 hours ago and my ankle is now even more blue.

Flat comfy shoes it is for this glamourous (unco-ordinated) lady lawyer.



- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Everyone I know is pregnant

Everyone I know is pregnant. My  in-real-life friends are pregnant, or have young babies. My blog buddies are all pregnant, or have babies and toddlers. Karen at my office - her girlfriend is pregnant.

If my 63 year old mother made a special announcement I would not be at all surprised.

I, however, am not pregnant. Nor am I getting pregnant any time soon.

So like the good glamorous powerful career woman  needy hormonal woman I am, I had a blog tantrum. I got so depressed about never being able to blog the good news, I just stopped blogging.

Month after month, I got the little memo from mother nature:

Attention: Elle.
You are not pregnant.
Please consume wine, sushi and soft cheeses to your heart's content.
Please cry in the toilets like a crazy person.

As this blog is my secret wife life, I feel like maybe I should write about it here. I want to remember these feelings. I want to remember this inner turmoil, self doubt and fear. I want to remember how this difficult year has brought my husband and I so close together and cemented our marriage in strength and love. Great blessings do rise from great trials.

I do not want to remember the less romantic elements of trying to conceive, the endless Ovulation Prediction Kits (I have had more intimate contact with my own fluids in the last year than I ever thought I would have), the routine scheduling of unroutine things, the counting, the waiting, the hopes up, the hopes dashed.

In the last month or so we have run tests, blood work, internals, all the fun medical procedures woman of child bearing age endure.

Now we have an answer. There is a reason for our non-conception. It is not life threatening, or fertility threatening (long term), but it is scary. I will need surgery to correct something. Hopefully laprascopic surgery. Will know more in a couple of weeks.

I have wanted to blog throughout this time, but it has been hard. Hard to blog about recipes and outfits when all want to talk about is blood tests and biopsies. Hard to showcase my beautiful cousin's wedding, when the bitter poison in me is whispering "I bet she gets pregnant before me....."

I am not quite at the place yet where I can freely blog about my medical issues. I value the blogs and admire the bloggerellas who do it, but I am not there yet. Maybe pregnancy (when we get there) will change that. I am not sure.

Over this blogging hiatus I have still been reading blogs. I read all your blogs everyday. Commenting via the iPad is hard (any tips and tricks appreciated). I still tweet (ell_secretlife).

I am slowly emerging from my little cocoon. I am going to focus on blogging the everyday things. It is going to be therapeutic, a recognition that despite bad news and scary procedures the sun will rise tomorrow, I  have noodles on Tuesday, Lands End Heritage is the best cardigan ever, I love watching Glee, and I love blogs.

I have so much to catch you all up on!