I’ve always been an icing on the cake kind’a’gal. You know us: we devour frosting, flee crumbling cake remains. And desserts with powdered sugar and oozing jellies that all fall down inevitably on clothes never seem worth the lbs. or the dry cleaning $$. So, when I recently found myself headed to Austria to cover the Salzburg Global Seminar: Cultural Institutions Without Walls, the last thing on my mind was leaky pastries: culinary institutions without walls….that is, until I was asked by Amy Ephron to, if I was in fact going to Austria, write about the infamous Sacher Torte.
Well, I was clueless on this food front. I’d never been to Austria before even though my father’s family fled from there, barely knew a torte from a tart, felt that ‘Sacher’ could possibly be a typo. Anyway, I managed to find out that there were two Sacher Torte places in competition for best Sacher Torte in this beautiful, green, sometimes Paris-like, and seriously musical town. First: the legendary Sacher Hotel which claims to have invented it…ergo, the name ‘sacher torte’. I wandered on cobbled, uncrowded, autumn-tree lined streets past pastry shop, coffee houses, and beer halls until I reached the kitschy Sacher Hotel and eyed the elaborate pastry display (that’s another thing; the Austrian make their desserts into works of art, often resembling animals). Frankly, I couldn’t pick out the Sacher Torte from the whipped strudel thing and the powdered ball-like custard mammal something, so finally just humbled myself and asked. Then, I was led to the prized torte featured atop a pastry tower: allow me to describe--chocolatey, it looked decently moist which I know from eating too many dry cakes is hard to pull off. However, it did not occur to me to actually taste the exalted torte (blame it on jetlag). I did ask what the ingredients were, and was told that the recipe was a secret. Okay, well, I don’t really care since I’m more a recipe-changer than a recipe-follower, but I don’t understand that secret-mongering piece of it.
The next day, after fleeing a museum that tried to music and war artifacts, I wandered for an hour (after being misdirected and/or having no sense of direction) and finally found the second big torte place in town, a shop on a tony shopping street featuring brands we all know from L.A. to Vienna. We’re talking frilly building with three floors, a glassed-in pastry kitchen you could look into, and an always closed unless specifically reserved dessert museum in the basement. It also featured a seriously unsweet attitude. I waited in the endless pushy line with people taking ‘cuts’ (if only I knew how to say that in German or anything in German, things might have actually gotten worse). I finally was allowed to sit and try possibly the Sacher Torte of all sacher tortes. It was fine; chocolate and jam that wasn’t too drippy, major sugar, and best of all, frosting! Again, I was told emphatically that the recipe was a secret.
I am now at an amazing Salzburg Global Seminar on “Cultural Institutions Without Walls”, staying in the Baroque, adorned palace that the ‘Sound of Music’ abode was modeled on and that has been promoting the illusive commodity peace since the end of World War II. Artistic innovators have gathered here from all over the world. As we talk and walk on cobblestones, surrounded by snowy Alps, we pass by a sign for the local Sacher Hotel, advertising that Sacher Torte that I feel is now stalking me. I could seize the opportunity as a second chance to try the Sacher version and see which is a better pastry. But I think I’d rather make up my own version.
However, I did pick up a postcard of a ‘Sacher Torte’ recipe so I’ll share it. One can always, as I always do, add on--
Sacher Torte
4.5 oz butter
3.9 oz. powdered sugar
6 egg yolks
6 egg whites
4.5 oz. chocolate
4.5 oz. flour
3.9 oz. granulated sugar
5.2 oz. granulated jam, pureed
Chocolate icing
Preheat oven to 350° F. Cream butter and sugar until fluffy and gradually add egg yolks. Melt chocolate, let cool to room temperature and slowly add to batter. Beat egg whites with granulated sugar until stiff and gently fold into batter. Gradually add flour. Grease and lightly flour a round removable-rim pan. Pour batter into pan and spread toward the edges so that a slight hollow forms in the middle. Bake for approximately one hour. Let torte cool and remove from pan. Slice horizontally and thinly spread jam across surface. Rejoin the two halves and spread remaining jam across the top and sides. Cover with chocolate icing and serve with whipped cream.
Amy Spies has written movies, television shows, and new media drama/games. She is currently working on her first novel.