Biscoff Soufflé Cake
I only learnt last year that a scant cup of something is just shy of a cup - where I've been thinking, it's a cup plus a little bit more. I'm not ashamed to admit that either; in fact I enter each day hoping to unlearn something. It's such a shame that university is wasted on the young (18-year-old Romy included). I'd be a much better student today than I was in 2015. I think the hunger to learn or be overly inquisitive comes with age (nice and ancient as I am at 24). Actually, that's not entirely true, I think you hit a plateau of relishing in your wrongness - maybe somewhere around 40. Then you just want to know what you know and turn anything else onto mute. That's probably why we heavily debate at our makeshift pub round tables that people over a certain age shouldn't be allowed to vote - because they are "stuck in their ways". So, let's go with the arbitrary ages of 23-39 being the season where you'd make the absolute best student.
I find baking is an area I tend to shy away from when I'm feeling particularly vulnerable - because it's not one of my strengths. I repeatedly f*ck up a good choux bun and nothing is ever that pretty. This past year though, whether it's the grey-matter-pruning still happening in my brain or the general stage of life I'm in, I've relished in the opportunity to fail a lot more - especially at baking. I know I'm getting dangerously close to wearing out the 'failure is a gift' chat, but it's true. Had I not made numerous batches of cookies with cornflour, I wouldn't have known that the odd earthy flavour in them was in fact the cornflour.
I do apologise if you thought you would get some concrete value related to the soufflé cake out of this introduction, but you should know by now I write a sort-of newsletter as a selfish endeavour before I give you the recipe. This is kind of like my second diary, but with bigger words and less existential dread. If that doesn't interest you, just skip to the recipe, I won't be offended.
14 Biscoff biscuits, crushed or blended
4 tablespoons of melted butter
5 Large eggs, separated
1 teaspoon of vanilla extract
1/2 cup of sugar
1/4 cup of honey
1 cup of greek yoghurt
1 cup of sour cream
1/3 cup of almond meal or almond flour
1/3 cup of cornflour¹
1/2 cup of melted Biscoff spread
1/2 cup of creme fraiche
1 cup of double cream, whipped
4 Biscoff biscuits
Preheat your oven to 150 celsius, bake (don't use fan bake as this could deflate your cake). Prepare a deep cake tin (about 23cm diameter) by lining it with baking paper - making sure to have the sides extend over the side of the tin so you can pull out the cake.
Using an electric beater, beat your egg yolks, vanilla, sugar, and honey together on high-speed for 10 minutes or until the mixture is a pale colour and the sugar has fully dissolved.
Mix in your greek yoghurt and sour cream until just combined. Then fold in your almond meal and cornflour.
Using a separate bowl and a clean beater, whisk your egg whites until they reach soft peaks (about 5-8 minutes). Gently fold the egg whites into your batter about a third at a time. It's okay if there are a few bits of egg white in the batter - you don't want to over mix it.
Pour the mixture into your prepared cake tin and bake until the top is golden and the cake has puffed up (about 1 hour). Remove the cake from the oven and allow it to cool in the tin. The cake is suppose to deflate so don't worry when it does!
Let the cake cool completely then gently remove it from the tin and place it in the fridge for at least 1 hour,
Mix together 1/2 a cup of melted Biscoff spread with your creme fraiche. If you have a piping bag you can add your whipped cream to one side and your creme fraiche mixture to other and pipe on swirls. If not, use your imagination and decorate the cake however you like!
Crush the Biscoff biscuits over the top and drizzle more of the melted spread over the cake. Leave it in the fridge until you're ready to eat it.²
You can use rice flour if you don't have cornflour
The cake can stay in the fridge for up to 24 hours