Saturday, 13 July 2013

Wonka Caramel Slice

You many remember back in January that I made a caramel slice for a friend and colleague's birthday.  If not, it's here.

One result of this tasty morsel was a discussion with another friend and colleague who also loves to bake.  She divulged to me that her most favourite thing is a caramel slice, and she'd be in heaven if she had one that was three feet tall, made with dark chocolate and topped with Thornton's cappuccino truffles.

It didn't stop there, however.  We descended into coloured caramel until I finally said, "You could even do it multicoloured."  Bless, her face lit up like her beloved Christmas trees!

And so the Wonka Caramel Slice was born.

Since that day, on and off, I've considered just how viable it would be to make a three foot tall caramel slice, and although it would indeed be possible (if fabulously messy!) I had to concede that it would also be unlikely in a bog standard, run of the mill kitchen.  And yet I felt like I'd been set a challenge, if only by my own hand!

Over the months the ideas formed and some trial and error on the day was necessary, but I did indeed create a rather deep, multicoloured caramel slice.  Okay, so it wasn't three feet tall, but it was around 4 inches (including the chocolates on top), which I think is still rather impressive.

Now, normally I give a vague idea what I did and just a couple of photos, but this time I knew I wanted it to be documented in all its strange, imperfect glory.  So here we go...

1. Shortbread

Where else do you start but with the shortbread?  I picked Mary Berry's recipe because I know it works a treat.  I considered making one very thick piece of shortbread, but I knew the likelihood of it being fully cooked in the middle was slim, so instead I opted for regular shortbread built up in layers.

Three layers of shortbread
When it came out of the oven (and was therefore still soft) I cut it in half then left it to cool in the tin. I made two standard slabs of shortbread in this way, and once cooled I sandwiched them together with a little melted dark chocolate so they wouldn't slip and slide around.

The eagle-eyed among you will notice that there must have been four pieces of shortbread but that there are only three layers in the photo.  Um... *smile*...

2. Coloured caramel

So then, coloured caramel!

I used three standard tins of condensed milk and approximately 150g unsalted butter, shoved it all in a big pan, brought it to the boil slowly while stirring the whole time.  I then simmered it for... well I'm not sure how long it was; until it was lovely and thick!  I'd say the whole thing probably didn't take longer than about 15 mins.

Three coloured caramels

I then divided it into three and added the colourings until I was happy with them.  For the orange and green I used red and blue colours respectively, since the caramel was already yellow.  Then once they were fully cooled but at room temperature (if they're too cold they can't be easily piped), I popped them into piping bags ready to be let loose on the shortbread.  When I say 'popped them into piping bags' what I actually mean is 'messily, stickily wrangled the awkward buggers into piping bags'.

3. Worms

Worms?  Oh yes, indeed.  Worms!  Well, how else would you expect to get a decent mix of colours on top of delicate shortbread?  I piped multicoloured caramel worms on top!

Worms!!!

And then, of course, I needed a flat surface on which to pour melted chocolate, so out came the palette knife.  Awww.... and I liked the worms!

Worms defeated  :(

Okay, so it was starting to take proper caramel slice shape.  Now, however, I faced a dilemma.  How would I pour on the melted chocolate so it didn't just run off the sides and onto the worktop?

4. The Wall

There was no other option that I could see; I needed greaseproof paper and I needed it fast!

The Wall

The caramel was sticky enough to hold the paper in place and create a barrier to stop the chocolate escaping, or so I hoped.  Some sticky tape helped too, of course.  And a lot of crossing of fingers!

Behold!  The chocolate remains in place!
Well, it sort of remained in place...

5. The Scaffold

As I sat there admiring the beauty and sheen of the successfully retained chocolate (not tempered, btw, to make sure it wasn't too difficult to cut through once it had set), I began to worry.  One side of the wall was beginning to buckle under the pressure.

NOOOOOOO!!!!!

So there I was, my hands holding up the paper to stop the overflow of chocolate while desperately looking around the kitchen to figure out how to keep it in place without me holding it for the next hour!

Scaffold!

TADAAAAAAA!  I wedged loaf tins around the edge of the slice, with the other side of the tins being kept in place by the flaps on the carry box.  Phew!  Okay, so the scaffold was in place and I could finally add the cappuccino truffles and walk away!

It was commented on that there were nine chocolates.  How was this possible?  They come in bags of eight or twenty.  Um... *smile*.  Sorry, Cate!  I ran out of time to buy more  :(

6. Relief!

The removal of the scaffold and the wall were such a big relief.  The slow, careful unveiling of the finished article was both painful and joyous, because I was just so nervous of messing it up now that I'd come so far.

Wonka Caramel Slice - all done!

It wasn't a thing of beauty.  I did consider trying to tidy up the sides and do a cover-up job so it looked more professional and... well... less like a playdoh brick... but this was never, ever going to be perfect.

This was an experiment in sugar and chocolate, and its imperfections just added to the childish joy of the thick, gooey, crunchy, coffee-ey mess of confection.

What this caramel slice lacked in beauty it more than made up for in flavour.  By the end of the day I was assured that apart from a couple of pieces kept back for colleagues the next day, it was demolished.

I can attest to the demolishing of the Wonka Caramel Slice.  I saw it at lunchtime when half of it had already been hacked and chipped away.  It was a most stunning sight, that so many people 'had at it'.

The only regret I have is that I didn't get a photo of Cate devouring the monster.  The childlike joy of her face when she realised I'd actually made the caramel slice of our combined imaginations, albeit significantly smaller than the 'house' she wanted, will never be forgotten.

I implore anyone out there who loves to bake; make something silly and imperfect, and just have some fun with it.  As a frustrated perfectionist most of the time, I found this was a lot of fun to plan and make, much more than I expected.

So bugger off, get in the kitchen and get messy!