Silly you! You probably think Rum & Rosemary are the ingredients for an exotic tropical cocktail that I'm sipping while relaxing outdoors on the patio. Haha. No... silly you! (again). It's not that at all. Rum & Rosemary are the smells of my kitchen.
You see... the other day my husband purchased a bottle of rum for a French sweet cherry and rum cake, called Tartouillat, that I've been meaning to bake. And since the newly planted mint is going crazy in my backyard garden, my husband decided to get a big bottle of rum for the mojitos that lie ahead. This morning I started on the cake. I had pitted the cherries, beaten the eggs into the sugar, and was about to measure the rum, which was open and setting atop the large butcher block in my workspace. Now you must understand that I will, on occasion, move extremely fast while working in my kitchen. Many times knives go flying. Today, however, it was the rum that went flying -- off the butcher block and onto the floor. The big, newly purchased bottle fell onto the floor and broke into many pieces -- large shards to infinitesimal specks. I stared at the floor for a long, long time. Where do I start? Do I try to soak up the rum first with towels and sponges, or do I start by picking up the broken glass? I think I started by cursing.
So what's up with the rosemary? After the floor was wiped dry and vacuumed twice to remove as much of the glass as possible, I washed it down, twice, with rosemary scented Mrs. MEYER'S All-Purpose Cleaner. The combination of rum and rosemary in my house was nothing short of overwhelming. (Fortunately, ten hours later, the smell has dissipated). I continued on and baked the Tartouillat,
which wasn't problem- free for me either. I ended up baking one cake twice. The original temperature of 400˚F was too hot for my cake that I baked in an 8-inch springform pan instead of the recommended 9-inch (it took forever to get the inside of the cake done). After baking my cake for 35 minutes at 400˚, and letting it cool, I rebaked the cake at 350˚ for an additional 40-45 minutes (if not more) after I discovered the soupy interior which wasn't noticeable what-so-ever on the inserted skewer. This is a delicious cake and I will make it again, using my 8-inch springform and baking the entire time at 350˚ -- for at least an hour, I'm sure; maybe more. Intuition tells me that if you follow the recipe's instructions and use a 9-inch pan, you'll be o.k., or at least close to o.k.
This is the Serious Eats link (click HERE) where I got the recipe. I will let you decide how to approach this cake. After baking it twice, allowing it to cool, and sprinkling with confectioners' sugar, I had 2 slices with a glass of cold milk. Like I said, it really is delicious.
TAKE a LOOK: