The elegant dessert was slowly rolled out into the center dining area of a small Indian restaurant in Windsor, Canada, on a cloth-covered cart. Twenty-five of us were at my friend’s 50th birthday celebration and everyone’s focus was on the large white half-circle shaped mound covered with swirls heading our way. The waiter poured something on it and instantly the whole thing was on fire. I was amazed!! What could this be?
Cake and ice cream and meringue – the perfect combination. I had to try this at home. A friend had suggested using a pound cake, so I bought a box mix and baked it up. Looking back, I’m not really sure what possessed me to think I could successfully recreate this dreamy dessert, because I was not that great a cook to begin with, and rarely baked. But everything sounded simple enough, once I read the recipe for Baked Alaska and how to make meringue. When the stove buzzer went off, I pulled the cake out of the oven and set it to cool on a rack on the counter. I waited for it to cool as long as I could stand it, probably 20 minutes. My boyfriend (now spousal unit) was napping on the couch after dinner, and I wanted to surprise him so I had to quickly finish it before he woke up. After I poked and pried it out of the loaf pan, I took a long knife and cut it horizontally. About half-way through, I noticed that some raw dough came out on the knife as I drew it back. I was puzzled by this, but I finished cutting it and lifted off the top only to find out that a small football-shaped size hadn’t cooked in the middle. My oven must be off kilter, but there was no time to put it back in, so I scooped out the gooey parts from both the top and bottom and got out the vanilla ice cream.
I sliced the ice cream in one-inch sections so I could just lay them on top of the bottom layer of the cake. I trimmed up the excess, ate it, and put the rest back in the freezer. As I put the top on the cake, a lot of the ice cream seemed to disappear so I added some more. I quickly put the top on, covered it in plastic wrap and put it in the freezer so it would hold while I made the meringue.
I flawlessly prepared the meringue and thought this baking stuff is pretty simple after all! Once I saw peaks in the meringue, I knew I was good to go. I got out the 151 rum and a lighter, pulled the cake out of the freezer and spread the meringue all over it, twirling little peaks into it. It looked like a miniature rectangle version of the cake at the Indian restaurant. I was getting prouder by the minute!
I briefly put it in the oven to get the peaks brown. When I took it out, I grabbed the bottle of rum and a tablespoon, and as I poured the rum into the spoon over the top of the cake, I had an essential tremor incident with my hands and much more rum than anticipated spilled on the cake. Hmmm. The little bit I had in the spoon went onto the cake as well because I didn’t have time to get it back into the bottle. I picked up the cake, balanced it in one hand and walked from the kitchen through the dining room, into the living room where John was napping. Half-way into the dining room, I called for John to wake up and I lit the cake.
I had never been that close to a large flaming anything before in my entire life. I don’t know how I didn’t drop it. I could smell some of my bangs as they singed. I huffed and puffed on the cake to put out the fire as I slowly walked toward the couch. John popped his head over the back of the couch, his eyes got wide and he yelled, “What the heck are you doing???”
I was red in the face by the time the fire went out. The dessert was suddenly well done. Time to eat it!!! I took it back into the kitchen, cut two slices and headed back to the living room.
My first bite told me how much 151 had really spilled onto the platter. The second bite showed me what little ice cream was left inside. I guess it absorbed into the warm cake. The flavor was still very good but within no time at all after we finished, we experienced that bloated gut-bomb feeling (a familiar feeling with my cooking). The rest of the dessert wound up in the trash, but I promised John I would perfect this recipe and try again!
By the time I attempted Round Two, we had moved my household across town into a townhouse next door to my Aunt Rosie and Uncle Jim, where we would live when we were married in a few months. John had told them some time ago about the Baked Alaska fiasco. I was tired of beting teased about it so I decided to make it for them as my aunt’s birthday was coming up. This time, I bought a pound cake already made. First problem solved. I sliced it in half again, cut the ice cream to fit, put the top on and covered it in plastic wrap to wait in the freezer while I made the meringue. Everything was going according to plan. Our townhouse had one of those ovens that sat above the cooktop instead of below, which I had never owned before. The door opened from right to left instead of top to bottom. Once the meringue was applied, I put the dessert in the overhead oven. Within minutes, the top slid forward and fell against the glass window in the oven door.
This presented a problem because if I just opened the door, the top would fall onto the stove top. I thought for a minute and then grabbed a large wooden fork and slowly pushed the oven handle to slightly crack open the door. I wedged the fork into the opening and, according to John, ‘harpooned’ the cake top. I then pulled open the door, flipped the top back onto the rest of the dessert, and quickly shut the door, all in about five seconds.
We all then noticed that there was meringue all over the glass door and my aunt, who is an excellent cook, started laughing so hard she had to excuse herself. Within minutes, it was done and out of the oven. I had John pour the 151 over the cake to avoid that other problem, and we lit it when my aunt returned. Other than not much meringue on the top of the cake, it was very tasty.
Unfortunately, this incident gave John more ammunition for making fun of the first incident. I had to try yet again and this time I absolutely had to be successful. I discussed it with a coworker, who suggested I make them in individual servings – a slice of cake, a slice of ice cream, another slice of cake, and then continue on with the meringue and 151. This was a stroke of genius as far as I was concerned.
After a few more gatherings with family and friends while listening to John tell his favorite story over and over, I took the challenge.
It was so simple. Cake, ice cream, cake, stacked individually on a cookie sheet. Wrap and freeze. Whip up meringue, frost the cakes, brown the peaks in the oven, have someone else pour the rum (or leave it off entirely and avoid the flaming disasters), and serve a very elegant and easy dessert!
And John said I’d never get it right.
All you need to recreate this masterpiece is repeat the paragraph above and make the meringue by beating three egg whites until foamy. Better use an electric mixer unless you have biceps of steel. Add ¼ teaspoon cream of tartar while beating until peaks form. Slowly add (while still beating) one tablespoon of sugar at a time until 3/4 cup of sugar is mixed in. When the meringue is stiff and glossy, beat in one teaspoon of vanilla for 30 seconds more and you’re done. Frost the cake/ice cream combination, brown the tips in the oven at 200-250 degrees, remove, flame or no (it’s up to you), and serve!
Enjoy!!