I Started It Too Late In The Day.
The Kind Of Late Where Your Mixer Sounds Louder Than It Should And Everything Sticks To Your Sleeves.
The Picture Martha Gives You Is Elegant. Glossy. Mushrooms Standing Like Proud Little Sugar Soldiers.
Mine Tipped.
The Ganache Slid.
The Log Sagged Into The Plate Like It Needed A Nap.
And I Loved It.
What the Original Looked Like
her highness’s version is… a sculpture.
a genoise sponge, soft but obedient. rolled with chocolate mousse so perfectly you wonder if she measured the spread with a ruler.
ganache icing. bark-textured.
meringue mushrooms, piped and baked and cocoa-dusted.
even the chocolate bark looks curated—thin shards like winter leaves.
it’s gorgeous. theatrical.
and not for the faint of bowl.
What I Did Differently (And Why I Don’t Regret It)
i didn’t sift the cocoa. didn’t warm the eggs over a double boiler.
i used a metal bowl balanced over a steaming pot and said a quiet prayer.
forgot the salt.
added espresso powder to the mousse because it felt dramatic.
the sponge cracked.
i panicked.
then i remembered: real logs split too.
i kept going.
The Way It Happened in My Kitchen
the genoise puffed in the oven while i washed the same spoon three times.
i flipped the sponge onto the tea towel—too hot, burned my wrist, cursed out loud.
rolled it anyway.
sugar everywhere. towel smelled like lemon from last week.
the mousse?
whipped the cream too far. had to fold the chocolate in fast before it seized. it still worked.
unrolled the cake and it stuck at the edges.
spread the mousse with a butter knife.
rerolled it gently. slowly. held my breath. it cracked down the side. like a fault line.
wrapped it up like a gift i wasn’t sure anyone wanted.
the ganache saved it.
shiny, thick, spread like apology over the seams.
i forked bark into the sides.
pressed chocolate shards where the cake dipped too far.
the mushrooms leaned. one fell. mae called it a haunted log. i didn’t disagree.
A Few Things I Learned
don’t start this after 5 p.m.
don’t expect symmetry.
don’t fight the cracks—they catch the ganache better anyway.
the mousse firms in the fridge.
the log forgives.
What I Did With the Rest
we ate it standing up.
mae took a picture, called it “edible trauma.”
i took the end piece.
the mousse hit first. then the sponge. then quiet.
Would I Make It Again?
maybe.
but only for someone who knows the difference between perfect and beautiful.
That’s As Much As I Remember
the fridge light hit the ganache just right.
the mushrooms slouched.
it looked like winter.
i exhaled.
FAQs
You Have To. It Needs Fridge Time To Firm Up, Emotionally And Structurally. I Made Mine The Night Before And It Was Better The Next Day. Like Most Things.
Oh, Mine Did. Big Time. The Ganache Hides Everything. Pretend It’S Intentional. Call It Rustic. Move On.
It’S Fussy, Not Hard. Just A Lot Of Little Things In A Row. Turn On Music. Take Breaks. Don’T Do It While Angry.
Yes. Or Make Them And Let Them Lean Like Mine Did. They’Re Cute, Not Required.
Three Days In The Fridge, Covered. After That The Mousse Starts To Sulk.
Check out More Recipes:
Martha Stewart Buche De Noel
Description
cracked, sweet, and defiantly upright. like me. just barely.
Ingredients
Instructions
- Make the genoise: preheated the oven to 350°F. lined a swiss roll tin. didn’t sift. beat eggs and sugar over steam until warm, then just kept going with the mixer until it got pale and thick. folded in vanilla, melted butter, then the dry stuff. spread it, baked it 10 minutes. springy. smelled like december.
- Roll the sponge: flipped it onto a sugar-dusted towel. peeled the paper. burned my fingers. rolled it tight from the short end and left it to cool while i questioned every choice i’ve ever made.
- Make the mousse: melted chocolate gently. whipped cream with sugar and vanilla until i overdid it. folded in the cooled chocolate and pretended i meant to rush it.
- Fill and reroll: unrolled the sponge. cracked at the edge. spread mousse to the edges anyway. rerolled it like it was fragile—which it was. wrapped in cling film, refrigerated it like a secret.
- Make the ganache: heated cream and butter, poured it over chopped chocolate. waited. stirred. thickened like magic. spread a thin layer over the log. chilled it. added more ganache, dragged a fork across like i was carving memory into it.
- Chocolate bark and mushrooms: made the bark with melted chocolate on parchment. chilled and cracked it into splinters. mushrooms? whipped egg whites. piped weird blobs. baked them. some leaned. one broke. used them all.
- Decorate and serve: added the bark. pressed in mushrooms. dusted icing sugar like fresh denial. served it cold. tasted like chocolate and persistence.