Week Nine: The Showstopping Yule Log

Do you watch The Great British Baking Show? I certainly hope so. If you don't, you ought to. It's on PBS (in America) and there are currently four seasons streaming on Netflix. 

British TV, in general, is a delight; from Monty Python to Fawlty Towers to Coupled to a zillion reincarnations of Doctor Who to Sherlock to Downton Abbey (my Winter Break binge) to Call the Midwife, it's all gold! But this show is particularly wonderful and a really under-appreciated TV food market: nice people making nice things. 

The premise is home bakers compete to win title of Best British Baker, not for a bazillion dollars or crazy fame, but an etched cake stand. The challenges are daunting and difficult but the people are so freaking nice. No one is sabotaging; they waste no time with alliances, mudslinging or the other dramatic bullshit we see on 99% of competition shows (I'm looking at you, Cutthroat Kitchen...which I also enjoy); it's all about hard work and supporting each other. 

Each episode includes three challenges: 

1. A signature bake where they have to meet x criteria (like make 48 identical biscuits aka cookies) but they can choose flavors etc.
2. A technical challenge where the splendid judges/British baking heroes, Mary Berry and Paul Hollywood, provide incredibly vague instructions for the bakers to replicate classic dishes (make a jam, make a batter, bake...= jaffa cake)
3. The showstopper, again with x criteria (a gingerbread centerpiece that is at least a foot tall with four separate pieces) where they are expected to go above and beyond any level of sane baking

These challenges never cease to amaze me - beyond that British baking is steeped in so much (delicious) history - but also because of the wide range of skills needed to produce these beautiful, flavorful dishes. And this week, we made our own showstopper. 

It's something I've only really seen in the past few years, and have only tried twice - with a clearanced Walmart version last year and an annual tradition at The Hop Ice Cream Cafe - but have been too terrified to try to make: bouche noel aka yule log, or according to Great British, a roulade.

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It's Week Nine and I am legit over this. So over it, in fact, I enlisted a guest baker this week - the Hubs. I never thought I'd get sick of cake, but...here we are. 

Looking at the calendar, it
looks like we missed a week,
 but eff it. I've made and eaten
 nine stupid cakes.

To recap the last two months' cakes: 

Week 1: Coconut Cream Poke Cake 

Week 2: Carrot Cake with Cream Cheese Frosting 

Week 3: Orange Chiffon Cake with Candied Zest 

Week 4: Upside Down Banana Toffee Cake 

Week 5: Maple Bundt Cake 

Week 6: Little French Fudge Cakes

Week 7: Tomato Soup Cake 

Week 8: Sufganiyot 

Week 9: Chocolate Yule Log  as found in Kraft's Food & Family

A yule log is basically a Little Debbie Swiss Roll disguised as a log. Sounds delish, right? Ok, maybe not, but they're so stinkin' cute! I've seen them covered in ganache with wood grain "carved" in, or white icing + cocoa powder and stencils to make birch trees, or detailed piping. The log-o-flauge can be quite time consuming, but that is second only to the tedious nature of the cake itself. 

I remember making a jelly roll cake once as kid, I was maybe 13. It stuck to the towel, cracked and was overbaked, total disaster; and I haven't made once since....speaking of which, does it really count that I've made another, since I had J do it? Dang. 

But this recipe isn't as daunting as I'd feared. The cake was a fairly standard sponge recipe, and it cooked for less than 10 minutes. The rolling was a bit nerve-wracking, but since it was iced and covered in chocolate "bark," cracking could be easily forgiven, if not just hidden. 

It looked AMAZING on our table. It was very realistic (for a cake masquerading as a log), and despite my perfectionist, artist husband's comments about how he'd done his grain incorrectly, I thought it was perfect! 

The recipe even included instructions for a yule log's perfect companion - mushrooms! They are mushrooms made from jumbo marshmallows. Fair warning, however: you will be so tongue tied you'll call both marshmallows and mushrooms the wrong thing for days (I've had to retype the last two sentences several times already). 

Another tip, enjoy the cute rolled up precious log while you can. Because you have to hack the hell out of it to cut a slice. Just like Paul Hollywood butchers the edible art on Baking Show, you'll need to be ruthless and just murder your beautiful log. But it's so tasty, from the soft cake to the sweet filling to the delicious bark, you'll have little time for regrets about knife skills. 

After last week's disastrous attempt to make something from an unfamiliar, daunting ingredient/process (dry active yeast) which yielded an absolute failure, it was wonderful to see another equally scary recipe turn out so beautifully. Perhaps it had something to do with my exceptional guest baker? 

I wouldn't kick him (the tall one) out of the kitchen...
I frequently kick the little one out, however.

One week left to go in the ten weeks of cake, dear readers. And as happy as I'll be to say goodbye to the bizarre year that was 2017, I'll be equally happy to stop baking, researching, writing about and eating cake...for awhile.