My mom made a Celtic “Hoops” roulade.  For those of you who don’t know how crazy Scottish & Irish folks– actually all Europeans– actually all Earthlings outside the U.S.– are about soccer, then let this cake be your introduction to the insanity.  My family worships the Celtic football team, so the decoration was green & white stripes, much like the players’ jerseys.  The sponge cake was light and moist, and it was filled with fresh raspberries and cream and frosted with cream cheese icing.  Heavenly.  Then we had my Aunt Miriam’s delicious chocolate cake, made with Cadbury Drinking Chocolate, which not only sounds, but actually is, much better than the likes of Nesquick.  Now some may say that also having lemon & chocolate tarts was just too decadent, so those people aren’t related to me.  And, finally, what meal would be complete without some Butlers chocolates straight from Dublin as a digestif?  I wonder where I could possibly have gotten my sweet tooth?

With an upcoming dinner party, I was inspired to make a Yule Log or Bûche de Noël, the classic French treat consisting of a thin layer of sponge and some sort of cream/jelly/flexible edible,  all rolled up.  I turned to Martha for guidance, and although the end result, I think, looked pretty good:
after 6 hours of working on this thing on a Friday night after work, I get why it’s a “seasonal” dessert.

Bear with me, because I’m about to get all Julie & Julia up in this piece.  Once I made my chocolate génoise (or French sponge), which I did not burn or, by the looks of things, overbake, plus my chocolate mousse filling, I began to ease it into its roll using a towel & parchment paper, as suggested.  As luck would have it, the cake broke almost immediately, then proceeded to not roll so much as fold in on itself, to create, rather than a round log, a flattened log with mousse oozing unstoppably out the sides.  Sweating and cursing, I then tried to move the mass over to some plastic wrap to chill in the fridge and set before decorating.  It was so full of stuff, I couldn’t get a good hold on it, and it started collapsing.  AARGH!!  I looked at the pile of crap I was dealing with and was struck by the absurdity of my pursuit.  Undoubtedly, everything I had here was delicious.  Now why was I insisting on rolling it into a shape it obviously had no interest in forming?  Why didn’t I just toss it all into a large bowl, pour some ganache on top, and have at it?  Because I didn’t want to accept defeat, that’s why.  So, after much mousse-loss, I wrapped it up and threw it into the fridge, so that I could work on the easiest thing in the world: chocolate ganache.

As you can see from my pics, I was eventually able to successfully turn my messy pile into a thing of humble beauty, using a fork, evergreen sprigs, and powdered sugar.  Pastry chefs must not only be great bakers, but also great sculpters and artists.  My respect for them grows by the day.  I was so proud, I didn’t even want to cut through it during our dinner party.  But I did, and found that the light génoise, mousse, and touch of strawberry jam melded perfectly with the smooth ganache.  I guess I’ll make another one next year.