True Orange Genoise

I only made two mistakes with this cake: one that was fixable, and one that wasn't. Well, they were actually both fixable, if by fixing you mean starting all over again. Still, despite the starting over, the multiple steps, and, of course, the difficulty in getting Seville oranges, I would definitely make this cake again. If I'm ever so fortunate as to see Seville oranges in any store, I'll buy them up immediately, knowing that I can put them to good use.
Vicki sent me a ton of oranges, and if I'd been a better orange shepherd, I'd have had plenty to give to Hanaâ, who also lives in Minnesota. But I was a poor tender of the sensitive oranges, and I ended up tossing the moldy ones. I squeezed the rest, and made the orange curd last week.

This is the orange curd against which all other orange curds should be judged. OK, I've only made it one other time, and that was Rose's recipe too, from her Christmas Cookie book, but the Seville curd is just so amazingly intense. I still have a little left in the refrigerator, and I haven't yet decided what's worthy of it. Bagels? Toast? Not unless they're first-rate themselves.

The genoise is my fifth or sixth, so I wasn't even anticipating any problems with it, but this time it failed. It seemed fine. My first clue that something might be wrong was when I noticed it didn't come even close to filling the pan halfway.

And when it came out of the oven, it was a sad-looking little disc, barely an inch tall. After it cooled off, I wrapped in plastic and put it in the freezer, so in case I ever feel like eating a probably tough, and definitely puny cake, I'll know just where to find it.

The second try turned out fine.

I think my initial problem was probably underbeating the eggs, and I think that was because I was getting tired of hearing the high-pitched whirr of the KitchenAid on high speed. (I outsmarted myself, though, because I ended up beating them for almost ten minutes the second time, just to make sure). I wonder if we should all be wearing earmuffs when we bake genoise cakes. After my second try, I wrapped the cake in StretchTite and went to bed.
The only things left for Sunday were the orange-Triple Sec syrup

and the ganache.
I accidentally took some milk chocolate from the freezer instead of dark chocolate. After the ganache was cooling, I noticed that it was really anemic looking.

"Why," I said to myself, "that looks like milk chocolate." In my best Sherlock Holmesean manner, I checked the freezer and noticed that the milk chocolate baggie was smaller than it had been, while the dark chocolate was untouched. So I melted some dark chocolate and added the milk chocolate ganache to it until it was the right more or less consistency.

Now comes the hard part.

Cutting the cake into two small layers is always a challenge, but it went all right this time. (See the bread in the background? I made Pain a l'Ancienne this weekend, which I will blog about on the bread blog, as soon as I get around to it). I will say that bread is way less fussy than cake. Finally, I get to use the orange curd.

And then quickly put a thin layer of ganache on the top and sides. The texture was perfect when I started but began to harden just as I was almost done.

Drat! I forgot to use my new cake turntable.

I still had a little milk chocolate ganache left, so I drizzled that on top of the cake. The color and texture were just enough different to allow the drizzle to stand out. I forgot to dry the oranges last night, so I didn't have that extra bit of decoration, but really, have you ever said to yourself, "That cake would have been just about perfect if it had had a couple of slices of dried orange on top?" I didn't think so.

When I told a friend of mine what cake I was planning to make this weekend, she made a little face. She said she didn't like fruit and chocolate together--she liked fruit, and she liked chocolate; she just didn't like them together. Chacun a son gout, I always say, but I don't understand how you could like orange and chocolate, and not like this cake. The chocolate--especially the dark chocolate, I'm glad I didn't keep the milk chocolate ganache--is such a lovely foil to the sweet-tart orange flavors. Although I don't usually order dessert at restaurants, I would order this--if only anyone other than me had it on their menu.

TASTING PANEL

Jim: "I like the chocolate and orange together. The orange flavor is really strong, but not too strong for the chocolate. The texture was grainier than I expected, but I still liked it."
Tony: "Delicious!"
Rachel: "Excellent!"