Cardamom Cake with Whole Pears and White Chocolate

 
Sometimes, food is all about where we’re from, and sometimes, it’s all about where we want to go.  My French Canadian recipes are meaningful to me, because they’re a part of the fabric of my life; they’re my history, my culture, and my memories.  And I wouldn’t give them up for the world.  In fact, they are a necessary part of my existence.  But once in a while, I need variety.  I crave the exotic, and when I haven’t traveled in a while, it feels like the only way to escape the doldrums of everyday life is to run into the kitchen and cook my way to a foreign country.  Today was one of those days where I wanted something with a European flair, something I hadn’t tried before, or heard of in my corner of the world.  That perfect something is this cardamom cake with whole pears and white chocolate.  Cardamom is a baking spice staple in many Scandinavian countries, and I love the touch of spicy pepperiness it brings to any baked goods, especially biscotti.  So I knew I was going to love this cake, because it would make me feel like I was transported to a Swedish bakery on a cold winter’s afternoon. Perfect.

 

 
Cookbooks really are a medium that allow me to travel (if only in an armchair sort of way), by allowing me to experiment with a region’s particular recipes, and create dishes or meals that truly represent a taste of life from that country. As a cookbook collector with over 500 volumes, my tastes in books range significantly.  In my library, you will find a lot of French cooking, Italian cooking, everything by Nigella Lawson, nearly everything by Simon Hopkinson, Nigel Slater and Jamie Oliver.  There are also a ton of baking books.  And cocktail/drinks books.  That must be why I also have a lot of health food recipe books too…and fitness books (but that’s another topic for another day).
 

 

All this to say that my cookbook purchases have evolved over the years.  For one thing, I don’t impulse buy cookbooks anymore.  My already full library offers limited (ok, no more) space, and its physical constraints are a constant reminder to choose the next purchase wisely, because it tampers with my book real estate every time, forcing me to figure out how I’m going to redistribute the excess volumes.  There is a very real fear that one day, I’m going to have to start donating or selling part of my collection.  This is the kind of fear that keeps me up at night, wondering how best to manage the problem without having to put the house up for sale so that I can buy one with a bigger library.  That, or ask Meat and Tater Man to build me some new shelving.  Frankly, I’d rather write math exams than ask him to do that.
 

 

While instinctively I know when looking through a book whether or not I will buy it (and it has nothing to do with whether the book is a best seller or not), I had to think long and hard on the reasons why I will invest in a new volume (besides sheer greed, of course).  The things that initially attract me most to a cookbook are simple elements, such as photography, layout, and pictures for all or most of the recipes.  But what really draws me in for the purchase are elements that are harder to explain – writing style, content, themes, how the chapters have been sorted, the type of cookbook (and how many of these types I currently own), and how personal the story writing is.  I don’t necessarily seek out writers that talk about their family secrets (though I find it strangely satisfying to read about famous people’s family affairs), but I do connect with food writers that have “a story” about the recipe they’re presenting.  It’s not just about ingredients – I get that, but it goes deeper than that.  The story (or recipe header) has the power to draw me to try something in the kitchen.  And that story can be anecdotal, personal, hilarious, or simply too compelling for words to describe.  This is what I look for – the recipe’s raison d’etre, and the author’s plug on why I, the reader, need to try it.

 

 
One of the authors that really has the power to draw me in with her stories is Yvette Van Boven.  Upon instantly picking up her book, Winter, I fell in love.  Her recipes are gathered and presented in a rather eclectic way throughout each chapter, and many of them are illustrated in hand print – a touch I love.  The photography is fabulous (as it should be when your husband is your photographer), highlighting not only pictures of finished recipes, but step by step shots, and pictures of the beautiful landscapes of Europe.  Yvette is of Dutch origin, but grew up in Ireland and now spends much of her time in France, so the content of her books is as diverse as her background, and this is one of the reasons why her books work so well for me.  Many of her recipes are totally new to me, and I love the variety of recipes she brings in each of her books.

 

 
This recipe for cardamom cake is, according to Yvette, a commonly published magazine recipe in Europe, though I had never seen this until I opened her book.  I immediately fell in love with the ingredients – white chocolate, wine and spice poached pears, and a basic pound cake recipe with cardamom.  What could be better?  Upon first glance at the recipe, I did find some flaws in the imperial to metric conversions, but I adapted accordingly, and got good results.  Here is her recipe, adapted to work properly.  Despite the editing flaws, I still highly recommend the book…it is beautiful, and filled with wonderful stories and fabulous recipes from all over the world.  Yvette’s personality really shines through, page after page, and you’re left wanting to head to the kitchen each time you open the book and read a few of its pages.