Shy

I am, in person, ridiculously shy. Despite my best efforts, even the simplest of lines, is difficult to get out when spoken to a stranger.

Tall people in particular intimidate me. Seriously, when I meet someone new and they’re of a certain height, I can barely look them in the eye. I guess that’s why my closest friends are pretty petite. In my first year at uni, my friend L and I actually toyed with the idea of starting a club just for short people. That is, until we realized that it wasn’t very fair to arbitrarily exclude people for some thing they couldn’t control (plus, we wouldn’t want to miss out on friendship with all the nice and tall people out there).

I’m even drawn to writers who tend towards being pint-sized rather than statuesque. Amanda Hesser is one. Molly Wizenberg, who calls hers a “very little family”, is another example. Though I’ll tell you, she’s got nothing on my tiny clan. I’m five foot one (almost) and my father is the same. My uncles are of similar proportions. Plus, compared to two of my three female cousins, I’m downright gigantic. Seriously, sometimes I feel like an elephant. But it has given me lots of experience interacting with people who are smaller in stature.

Other than that though, I am woefully lacking in experience with social interaction. At the ripe old age of twenty, I’ve never been kissed, let alone had a proper boyfriend. I’m the type who has only a few close friends at a time and am terrible at staying in touch.

It follows then, that there are even many things I eat which make me self conscious. Not because I don’t enjoy them or they are trashy (well maybe the microwaved eggs and processed cheese product that I favoured from ages 5 to 10), but because they are unfamiliar to my eating companions.

I like crème fraiche in my bircher muesli and see shedding some cheese atop my sweet bread pudding as an extension of Mexican Capirotada. To me, the strong sour scent of balsamic vinegar, rising from the pan, first thing in the morning is most welcomed and not cause for a scrunched up nose or reason to crack open an extra window.

Of course, these are not sentiments my parents always share. I don’t expect them to. I am guilty of polluting the air. And before 9am no less. I am sorry.

Still, if my memory serves me right, M.F.K Fisher, in her book, An Alphabet for Gourmets, states that a gourmet is one guided by his or her own appetites and who does so without embarrassment. I’m trying to put this attitude in to practice. In food, as well as life.

After all, when I’m gone (lets hope there’s a long time yet) I want people to say things like “she felt deeply and always laughed out loud”. So as you can see, I’ve got my work cut out for me.

The only time I’ve ever felt anything less than terrified by the world around me was during the year I spent at Trinity College doing a foundation studies course before university. All the students were international like me and the school was small. I felt like I knew everyone in my classes on some level or another. When I walked down the street, people waved at me. When I did presentations in class, I did not stammer but felt confident enough to bring cake. To be more specific, chilli chocolate cake (my presentation was on the history of chocolate).

Truth be told, the cake was a little dry. But I had just discovered this charming little South American café and the owners were so friendly, I couldn’t stop purchasing their Latin (totally new to me at the time) desserts and pastries.

Anyway, a roomful of college-aged students could only be happy with free cake. They claimed to like it. My classmates were sweet.



I have since experimented with the flavours of chocolate and chilli on my own at home, with a cake recipe that I feel very strongly about. If it was the prune that turned my condition around, it was cake, and especially this cake, that sustained the change. It was the first cake I ever made that my family loved and it will always have a place in my heart. My favourite author, Molly Wizenberg calls it Winning Hearts and Minds Cake and Clotilde Dusoulier, the talented lady behind Chocolate and Zucchini, came up with the chocolate chilli variation posted in slightly adapted form here. It is a great cake – sleek and subtle but also bold with spicy flavour.

It is the cake I aspire to be.

French-Style Chilli Chocolate Cake
Adapted from Chocolate and Zucchini

Cake:
200g butter
200g dark chocolate, chopped
200g sugar
5 eggs
a rounded Tbsp of flour
1-1/2 tsp ground chili

Chocolate Ganache:
100g dark chocolate, chopped
100ml cream (single or double, crème fraiche, even sour cream is fine here. I like the tang)

Double cream, to serve (optional)

To make cake:
Pre-heat your oven to 200°C (400°F). Grease an 8-inch round cake pan. Melt the butter with the chocolate in a small saucepan. Add the sugar, mix with a wooden spoon and let cool a little. Add the eggs one by one, mixing well with the spoon after each addition. Add a rounded tablespoon of flour and the chilli. Mix well. Pour the batter into the pan and put into the oven to bake for 30 minutes. Put the pan on a cooling rack on the counter to cool completely.

To make ganache:
Melt together the chocolate and cream in another saucepan. Stir well. Pour into the sunken hollow that will now have formed in the cake.

Refrigerate cake but take it out about half an hour before serving. Serve with double cream, if desired.

Serves 6 to 12.