Chocolate and raspberry (and blackberry) brownie cake

A couple of weeks ago my son, Giulio, turned 7. I feel that 7 is somewhat of a milestone, what with so-called 7-year cycles of cell generation and relationship itches and such. For me, it marked 7 (and 8 months, shortened pregnancy included) years of loving and knowing the little boy who has reshaped and redefined my world in every way. Some things haven’t changed for me since becoming a mother, however. I still don’t like kids’ parties (my child’s included) and playground etiquette terrifies me, as do lengthy discussions about the stages of childhood development and in the early days, which kids are walking, talking and sharing soonest. The last one especially. Giulio has a way of breaching all protocol, perhaps developed in the womb as an act of solidarity with his ill-equipped mother or on the contrary, to make me extra uncomfortable in these situations. Sharing was not his forte, incidentally. He was undoubtedly the loudest baby in any gathering, who existed on a steady stream of Plasmon biscuits (the national kiddie biscuit of Italy) when ‘teddy’ wasn’t hanging loosely from his gummy mouth.

These days he still has much to say, on all subjects and at a volume that is elevated to a level that sounds like yelling to most, but is standard among his southern European family members. As is the case for all kids, the birthday celebration is much anticipated. Each year he requests a specific cake flavour for the birthday cake. He is less interested in how the cake looks, thank the heavens. I’ve made a habit of creating number cakes because I’m truly crap at sculpting art forms out of cake, unlike my incredible sister, and this year would be my simplest yet, ‘7’ not frying my brain like ‘6’ did.

However, monsieur declared a couple of months ago that he no longer liked cake, that they were ‘too sweet’ for his tastes. Apparently he had joined the ‘I quit sugar’ movement. The baby who loved Plasmon had had a 7-year cell regeneration of his own. I asked him what we could place candles on in lieu of a cake and ran through some options: cupcakes (‘no mum, too sweet’), muffins (‘maybe, they’re not as sweet as cupcakes’), brownies (‘if they’re not too sweet, yes’). And so he settled on brownies, so long as I could add raspberries. My little gourmand knew not of the raspberry shortage taking place in our local shops, but I was confident some kind of berry would be located so that this otherwise dull brownie cake could have a little interest, else it be the same as the cake I made last year. I would not cut out sugar altogether, instead halve the regular amount that would be used.

I made a couple of versions of ‘brownie cake’, both gluten free. The first was for the birthday celebration with family, the cake much richer with the inclusion of cocoa powder and more than a few drops of Marsala. The second version, noted here, was more brownie-like and kid-friendly, but still decadent. The birthday boy preferred this version, and all bar one guest at the ‘soccer party’ (fifteen 7-year-olds running around in an echoey hall thanks to Melbourne weather) deemed it yum. The one guest who didn’t told me straight-up that he didn’t like it. Oh well. Better than the kid who told me to ‘shut-up’ several times in rapid succession when I approached him as he was pacing the hall and threatening to run away from the party. I had instant regret in that moment for telling parents to go and take a load off at home while the party was happening. Perhaps it was karma. Giulio’s desperate father was referee for the boys, not stopping for 1.5 solid hours lest we have any more runners. ‘I have to keep them playing’, he’d said to me, wild-eyed and sweaty. He looked quite ill by the time it was all over.

Next year a number ‘8’ cake and if I have it my way, three friends attending, max. I’m thinking this is as likely as there being a Lionel Messi lookalike who does kids’ party entertainment. Or maybe not. For any Messi doppelgängers, there’s money to be made out there in kiddyland. Call me.

INGREDIENTS

250 g unsalted butter
200 g dark chocolate
¾ cup caster sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
5 eggs
1 cup almond meal
⅔ cup (100 g) dark chocolate chips
100 g (a good handful) fresh or frozen raspberries (mine were half blackberry, half raspberry)
icing sugar, to dust

METHOD

Preheat your oven to 180°C. Grease and line a 20–23 cm cake pan. I used a rectangular slice/brownie pan for this cake. Brush a little butter or oil over the lining.

Add the butter and chocolate to a medium-sized saucepan over very low heat, gently stirring until they have completely melted. Set the pan aside and allow to cool for about 10 minutes.

Once cooled, add the sugar and vanilla to the mixture and use a balloon whisk to combine. Add the eggs, one at a time, mixing well after each has been added.

Gently mix through the almond meal until well combined, then add the choc chips. Once these are distributed throughout, add the berries and carefully fold through, not overmixing and keeping the berries in tact. Pour the chocolate batter into the prepared tray and give it a bit of a shake to even out the mixture.

Bake for about 40–45 minutes, or when it is cooked through and the top is golden. I check at about the 35–40 minute mark with a skewer. For brownies, the skewer shouldn’t come out clean. This would mean it’s overcooked and you really want that nice fudgy centre to them. It also shouldn’t be completely set if you give the tray a shake. A little wobble is perfect. I like to see fudgy crumbs, but not wet batter, which would mean it needs more time.

Serves about 20 (Please note that for the below I made two quantities.)