A flourless chocolate cake that is truly effortless

Isn’t it awful that the older you get, the more you know yourself? It’s supposed to be a good thing, attributed to wisdom, experience and a deeper understanding of our place in the world around us. But good lord, self-awareness can be a cruel mistress.

I have realized that my greatest culinary goal is simply unachievable. You see, I long to appear effortless. This is true throughout my life, but particularly so when it comes to cooking. Every time I invite friends round for lunch or dinner, I resolve that this is the time when everything will not only be easy but, crucially, I will make it look easy. That I will simply throw something together that everyone will adore; the gathered diners will be equally impressed by the food and by the nonchalance with which I’ve assembled it. But when it comes to it, I’m elbow-deep in batter, I’ve introduced two elements that need deep-frying at the last minute and I’ve inexplicably decided to serve a second pudding. I am incapable of not making a meal out of making a meal.

I guess I’m just not a throw-something-together kind of gal, however much I may wish to be. It’s like that Margaret Thatcher quote about how being powerful is like being a lady: if you have to try really hard to be effortless, you aren’t. I’m simply not a seat-of-the-pantser — I don’t fridge-forage; I cannot substitute ingredients without panic and a certain amount of resentment. If anything ever looks thrown together in my home (or life), I can guarantee it has been the subject of carefully crafted shopping and to-do lists, probably a time plan, and maybe even an existential crisis. But more likely, it will also be glaringly obvious that this was the case.

Even a soup, a bowl of pasta or a spread of bits and pieces — a picky tea, as it’s known up north — requires, in my hands, more busyness than it should. There has been more than one occasion when I have served soup from a carton for lunch with shop-bought buns and been told I shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble. This is a “me” problem, I fear. I simply exude effort. I suspect I always look just a little harried. It’s terribly unchic. Trying hard is rather, well, try-hard.

I haven’t found the answer to this affliction, but I have found something that offers a brief reprieve from the over-complication. This flourless chocolate cake is, without doubt, the most effortless pudding that I have made. I know that it may sound unlikely to describe a cake as effortless, but I promise you it is literally a one-bowl bake. Even I, the least chill woman in the world, cannot make a mountain out of this (delicious) molehill. There is simply no room for culinary faffing. Since I discovered it, I have been making it on repeat and basking in my pretense at easy going culinary nonchalance.

There are plenty of almost-flourless chocolate cakes which at the last moment sling a single tablespoon into the mix, just to be safe, and others that rely on ground almonds or other nuts to replace the flour. Some separate the eggs and whisk the egg whites into great cloudy billows to bring ballast and structure. This one doesn’t bother, but it truly is flourless, and that is what makes it both so delicious and so straightforward.

This recipe simply melts together the butter and chocolate, then stirs the other ingredients in, rather like a brownie. And like a very good brownie, it is firm but squidgy, rich and extremely chocolatey, thanks to the combination of a lot of dark chocolate and cocoa powder. In fact, all those words that are too often applied to chocolate bakes are suddenly irresistible here: fudgy, decadent, grown-up, moreish. Cooled, it slices cleanly into elegant slivers, dark enough that you don’t need more than one, but sweet enough that you wouldn’t say no.

I like to serve this with crème fraîche and some prunes soaked in Earl Grey tea or armagnac. I could serve it alone, unadorned, but where’s the effort in that?

Serves 8

Takes 10 mins

Bakes 30–40 mins

• 200g dark chocolate
• 200g butter
• 250g caster sugar
• 4 large eggs
• 50g cocoa powder
•  ½ tsp fine salt

1. First, line the base and sides of an 8in or 9in cake tin with a tight-fitting base or springform clasp. Preheat the oven to 190°C/180°C fan.
2. Melt the butter and chocolate together in a bain-marie, stirring gently, then remove from the heat and allow to cool for five minutes.
3. Stir the sugar into the melted butter and chocolate, followed by the eggs one at a time. Then sift the cocoa powder and salt into the mix, folding it in carefully so that the mixture is fully combined.
4. Pour the mixture into the prepared tin and cook for 30-40 minutes, until the top is set and shiny. Allow to cool for ten minutes before removing from the tin and leaving to cool completely.