torta sa španskog dvora


Torta koja se već dugo najčešće pravi u našoj kući, još od mojih studentskih dana (a to jeste bilo davno). Prvo mi ju je pravila mama, posle sam ja sama, pa sam nebrojeno puta uživala sa svojom srednjom milicom, Ivonom, praveći je. Lako ju je napraviti i uvek bude izvrsna, mada, istina je - bilo je situacija u kojima je bila potpuno neodoljivo čarobna - apsolutna zavodnica.  Torta koja pleni kombinacijom ukusa čokolade i suvih smokava natopljenih u Grand Marnier likeru.




  • 10 jaja
  • 540 g šećera
  • 250 g suvih smokava natopljenih u malo mirisnog Grand Marnier likera
  • 100 g oraha
  • 60 g brašna (4 kašike)
  • pola praška za pecivo
  • 100 g čokolade
  • 200 g putera




Peku se dve velike pravougaone kore od po 5 belanaca i 150 g šećera.  Mogu se peći i tri okrugle. Belanca i šećer se dobro umute.



Smokve se iseckaju, orasi takođe. Prašak za pecivo i brašno se pomešaju, pa se to smeša sa smokvama i orasima.




Pola te smese se lagano umeša u mućena belanca sa šećerom i stavi na pečenje oko pola sata na 150°C. Pa se postupak ponovi sa ostatkom materijala.

Tako dobijemo dve velike kore, koje prepolovimo po širini, pa se dobije torta sa četiri kore.




Za fil kuvamo na pari 10 žumanaca sa 240 g šećera i 100 g čikolade. U hladan fil se umeša 200 g putera, pa se filuje torta.



Domaćica ovomesečne kuvarigrice Ajme koliko nas je, Lara koja piše Slatki blog, izabrala za temu suve smokve, pa njoj sa uživanje šaljem ovaj recept koji je odvajkada kod nas u kući.









THE POGUES LYRICS


Send "Fairytale Of New Yo…" Ringtone to your Mobile
"Fairytale Of New York"

It was Christmas Eve babe
In the drunk tank
An old man said to me,
Won't see another one
And then he sang a song
The Rare Old Mountain Dew
I turned my face away
And dreamed about you

Got on a lucky one
Came in eighteen to one
I've got a feeling
This year's for me and you
So happy Christmas
I love you baby
I can see a better time
When all our dreams come true

They've got cars
Big as bars
They've got rivers of gold
But the wind goes right through you
It's no place for the old

When you first took my hand
On a cold Christmas Eve
You promised me
Broadway was waiting for me

You were handsome
You were pretty
Queen of New York City
When the band finished playing
They howled out for more
Sinatra was swinging
All the drunks they were singing
We kissed on the corner
Then danced through the night

The boys of the NYPD choir
Were singing 'Galway Bay'
And the bells are ringing
Out for Christmas day

You're a bum
You're a punk
You're an old slut on junk
Lying there almost dead
On a drip in that bed

You scum bag
You maggot
You cheap lousy faggot
Happy Christmas your arse
I pray God
It's our last

The boys of the NYPD choir
Still singing 'Galway Bay'
And the bells are ringing
Out for Christmas day

I could have been someone
Well, so could anyone
You took my dreams
From me when I first found you
I kept them with me babe
I put them with my own
Can't make it all alone
I've built my dreams around you

The boys of the NYPD choir
Still singing 'Galway Bay'
And the bells are ringing
Out for Christmas day




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