So yesterday was Valentine’s Day. Was it just me, or did it seem like people made more of a fuss about it than usual this year? My feelings on this Hallmark holiday can best be described as love/hate. One the one hand, all that pink and red crap, the blatant consumerism masquerading as love, and the starry-eyed, cooing couples who seem to think that grotesque displays of PDA are suddenly acceptable… all of that is completely off-putting. On the other hand, I have some great memories of nights inspired by Valentine’s Day backlash; wine-fueled all-girls dinner parties, slasher movie marathons, defiant nights out in the Village with every unattached friend I’d ever had. This year, the fact that Brian and I cooked a decadent dinner of caviar potatoes and cracked a bottle of amarone had nothing to do with the fact that it happened to be Valentine’s Day, and everything to do with us seizing the opportunity to spend a nice night at home together – something our schedules haven’t permitted us to do since New Year’s Day.

When I selected two chocolate desserts (this, and also, the Chocolate Soup – post coming soon) for the Dessert FourPlay project this week, it much less a coincidence: I did it, unabashedly, as a tribute to the holiday that I so love to hate. When I set out to blog the whole book, I knew that I would eventually have to make this, the most “conventional” dessert, at some point. What I hadn’t anticipated, however, was how much I would enjoy doing it. But enough of my blathering.

The Jean-Georges Warm Chocolate Cake did not inspire a whole lot of excitement at first glance. I’m not one of those Cathy cartoon style “chocoholics” who’d, I imagine, swoon for desserts like this. I enjoy chocolate, but when it comes to selecting a dessert, I get way more excited about fruit, spice, or caramel. But, I wasn’t bored, because I learned a lot of cool new things with this dessert, and discovered some new loves of my own. For starters, the candied vanilla bean pod garnish is exactly my kind of thing. Vanilla Beans are, for me, one of the most sensual, complex ingredients – the very act of cutting one open and scraping the lush, oily seeds from the pod, the unbelievable fragrance… just wow. That takes me there. Do that, then take the pods, slice them thin, simmer them in simple syrup and roll them in granulated sugar so they shimmer, and you may begin to understand just what I love so much about this cooking stuff.

Equally delightful, the chocolate sauce also took me by surprise. Others that I’ve tried before called for corn syrup and liquor for texture and flavor, but this deceptively simple recipe has neither. Slow simmering coaxes out the most unbelievably thick and dark chocolate flavor that I ever could have hoped for. I’m resisting the urge to go stick a spoon in the leftovers right now.

Heaps of praise are also due for the chocolate crumble, which is essentially a cookie made from a dark, buttery dough…

…baked until crisp, and then pulverized in the food processor. In addition to lending contrast of texture, the crumble serves the purpose of cradling ice cream on the plate, preventing it from sliding away and colliding with the cake.

The vanilla bean ice cream recipe called for both invert sugar (which I made by cooking sugar, water, and lemon juice) and corn syrup, which some might balk at until they taste the creamy results. Iuzzini explains that invert sugar helps reduce ice crystallization and lends a softer mouth-feel and smoother texture, both of which are especially hard to achieve in my detached canister model home ice cream maker. I’m looking forward to using this technique whenever I make ice cream in the future.

With all of the accessories ready, all that remained was making the cake itself. For this recipe to be successful, it’s important to that you achieve proper volume when whipping the eggs and yolks with the sugar. Stand mixers make this extremely easy, and the cake batter can be piped into ramekins and stored in the fridge for up to 8 hours before baking.

Which makes it a great dessert for showy dinner parties, because once you have everything ready to go, you can entertain your guests, pop the cakes in the oven, plate, and serve, like nothing ever happened. They’ll all think you’re some kind of domestic god(dess).

Just to recap, the elements of the dessert: chocolate crumble, vanilla bean ice cream, candied vanilla bean, and the warm chocolate cake (not pictured).

So here’s where it becomes painfully apparent that I’m not up to the point in school where they teach us how to artfully plate anything. That swoosh of sauce  in the picture is try #4, and it still looks like a fifth grader did it. Also, the quenelle of ice cream is very very sad. Nothing like the museum-quality one in Johnny Iuzzini’s book, with the perfect points on either end. And, I had an unmolding issue with my cake, due to insufficient buttering of the ramekin. Despite the fact that by appearance, this is a plate that only a mother could love, it put a smile on my fiance’s face, and that’s all I ever really need.

Next up: Chocolate Soup

Interested in playing along? Click to get your copy of Dessert FourPlay: Sweet Quartets from a Four-Star Pastry Chef