In Agatha Christie's 'A Murder Is Announced' (1950), slightly batty Dora Bunner is offered a lavish birthday cake baked by Mitzi, Miss Blacklock’s housekeeper and cook, a young Middle European refugee. Mitzi exclaims 'Gott im Himmel' in the book, which signifies that she hails from one of the German-speaking countries that were overrun by the Nazis during the Second World War. That would be Austria or the Sudetenland, the German-speaking part of Czechoslovakia.
Nicknamed 'Delicious Death' for its unusual richness, the chocolate cake was especially extravagant in post-war Britain, when most ingredients were still rationed, and Miss Blacklock had to spend weeks of saved coupons to be able to make it.
Mitzi is delighted. "It will be rich, rich, of a melting richness! And on top I will put the icing – chocolate icing – I make him so nice – and write on it Good Wishes. These English people with their cakes that tastes of sand, never never, will they have tasted such a cake. Delicious, they will say – delicious". Her face clouded again. "Mr. Patrick. He called it Delicious Death. My cake! I will not have my cake called that!"
Possible origin
Mitzi called the cake 'Schwitzebzr' and that could well be her own interpretation of a Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte (Black Forest gâteau), which was intentionally garbled by Agatha Christie. She loved using faux‑foreign malapropisms for humour and characterisation. Tragically, the cake was Dora Bunner's last supper before she is found poisoned. Did the cake live up to its name? Yes. In the darkly comic, Christie‑esque sense, the cake did.
Failed recreation
In 2010, the 'Delicious Death' cake was recreated to mark the 120th anniversary of Agatha Christie’s birth (1890). See here. Actress Jane Asher loosely based the recipe on ingredients mentioned in the novel: American butter, saved Christmas raisins, chocolate, and a pound of sugar. The operative word here is: loosely.
My recreation
Here I recreate a post‑war, ration‑era, Central European‑inspired cake. While not truly a Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte, it is the sort of ersatz, improvised, refugee‑heritage cake Mitzi would have baked in 1946–1950 England.
Ingredients (for the fruit):
- 150 grams of raisins (saved from Christmas)
- 60 millilitres brandy
Ingredients (for the cake):
- 115 grams of butter (American butter, as mentioned in 'A Murder Is Announced')
- 225 grams of sugar (a huge luxury which must have cost weeks of saved rations)
- 2 medium eggs
- 175 grams of plain flour
- 25 grams of cocoa powder (or 40 grams of grated chocolate if cocoa was unavailable)
- 1 tsp baking powder
- ½ tsp baking soda
- ½ tsp salt
- 120 millilitres milk (diluted evaporated milk was more common in that post-war era)
Method:
1. Warm the brandy slightly. Pour over the raisins. Cover and leave to soak for at least 1 hour, preferably overnight. This was the trick to imitate the boozy cherry element of Schwarzwälder Kirsch Torte.
2. Beat the 115 grams of butter with the 225 grams of sugar until pale and fluffy. (This step was emotionally satisfying in a time of scarcity.)
3. Beat in the two eggs, one at a time. If the mixture curdles, add a spoonful of the flour.
4. In a separate bowl combine 175 grams of flour, 25 grams of cocoa, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.
5. Add the dry mixture to the butter mixture in two parts. Add the milk in between. Fold in the brandy‑soaked raisins (and any leftover brandy).
6. Pour into a greased small round tin. Bake at 160–170°C for 55–70 minutes, depending on the oven. Check regularly with a knitting needle.
7. Let the cake cool and serve.
Rations and scarcity
The Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte, with whipped cream, cherries, and Kirschwasser, was already known in Central Europe by the 1930s, but it was impossible to reproduce authentically in post‑war Britain. Sugar remained rationed in Britain until September 1953, while chocolate was scarce well into the early 1950s. Cream was also rationed, cherries were seasonal, and Kirsch was unobtainable. Everyone had to improvise.
Comments
I’d love to hear your thoughts on this article. How does my recipe compare with your own memories of post‑war baking?
No comments:
Post a Comment