Potato Chocolate Gateau

A culinary relic from the starch-heavy seventies Few eras in gastronomic history provoke as much curiosity—or digestive dread—as the 1970s. Gwen Robyns, author of The Potato Cookbook, seemingly dedicated her career to proving that the humble spud belongs in every course, including dessert. Her Potato Chocolate Gateau is the latest vintage experiment to undergo modern scrutiny. This is not a traditional baked sponge; it is a no-bake, chilled concoction that combines mashed potatoes with bittersweet chocolate and a bewildering garnish of upright almond "teeth." Contradictory instructions and structural doubts The technical execution of this recipe reveals the chaotic nature of mid-century cookbook editing. Discrepancies between the British and American editions regarding egg counts leave the cook guessing, ultimately landing on a four-egg compromise that feels structurally precarious. The method demands whisking eggs and sugar until frothy, yet the subsequent addition of heavy mashed potatoes and crushed Digestive biscuits inevitably collapses that hard-earned aeration. It is a fundamental clash of techniques: the delicacy of a mousse fighting the density of a root vegetable. Textural dissonance on the plate Visually, the result is nothing short of catastrophic. The "teeth" of roasted almonds create a predatory aesthetic that is more suited for a Halloween prank than a dinner party centerpiece. Once sliced, the experience does not improve. The texture sits in a purgatory between a soggy biscuit and a gritty curd. While the chocolate flavor itself is passable, the presence of mashed potato introduces a heavy, starchy dampness that offers no culinary advantage. It lacks the refinement of a proper gateau and the satisfying crunch of a tiffin. Verdict on the potato experiment While the Potato Chocolate Gateau earns a timid pass based solely on its chocolatey profile, it fails as a recommendation. The potato serves as a gimmick rather than a functional ingredient, providing weight without worth. For those seeking a vintage thrill, stick to the classics and leave this starchy relic in the archive. Some heritage recipes are forgotten for a reason.