The word “financier” may remind you of someone who handles money, but it’s also the name of a small cake. Financiers are usually made from almond flour. And lots of butter. And so they are delicious. At least to me.
I recently (OK, so maybe it’s been a few months) made some blackberry financiers. They’re little almond cakes with a blackberry half in the middle. But who would’ve thought to drop a berry into a rich cake like this? I can only imagine…
Jacques was relaxing at home after a long day at work in downtown Paris. The constant stream of clients, the endless phone calls, when would they all stop? All he had the energy to do at home was sit back in his overstuffed chair with a big glass of red wine and munch on a fresh baguette.
He thought back to when he bought the baguette, right after work. The local market had a bakery stand that he loved to visit. The smell of freshly-baked bread, the butter from the pastries, the cinnamon from the cinnamon buns… those scents could not be captured in a bottle. If only they could be, he would be spraying that all over his flat, making it smell like heaven in the form of a bakery.
Right next to the bakery stand at the market was a produce stand, where they had the most beautiful blackberries, displayed in large, flat containers. The skin was so tight, the flesh glistening in the afternoon sun, just slightly moist from a recent spray of water the farmer applied to keep them fresh. He couldn’t resist buying two boxes of them. And now he had two large boxes of blackberries, teasing him from his kitchen counter. He couldn’t very well down them all in one sitting, could he?
His thoughts drifted to Melanie, his coworker with legs that never ended. Jacques had an ongoing quasi-relationship with her, where they were not quite girlfriend and boyfriend, but were they ever sleeping together like rabbits in heat. Even though he had absolutely no energy to even pick up a book, he certainly had the will and desire to have a shag with Melanie tonight. So he rang her up and she eagerly invited him over. Who said that French girls don’t like sex? He thought the blackberries would be an excellent precoital snack, and so he tucked the boxes under his arm and hurried over to Melanie’s apartment.
Jacques rang the doorbell with the enthusiasm of a dog expecting a treat, and Melanie swung the door open with an equal amount of zeal. Her eyes popped open when she saw the blackberries. Fruit was her second love, closely following sex. She squealed with delight and carried them over to the kitchen. She mentioned to Jacques that she was just about to pop some financiers in the oven. This woman was so unbelievably hot, incredibly smart, and she was even a master baker. What was not to love?
As Melanie set the blackberries down on the counter, Jacques caught a glimpse of her firm, round ass, and it was all he could do to keep himself from jumping her right then and there. His body succumbed to his mind’s lust, and he leapt at her like a hyena pouncing on its prey. It took all of her strength to keep herself from falling onto the floor, but she was accustomed to such sudden advances from Jacques, his animalistic urges on full display whenever she was wearing something tight and revealing, as she was this evening in her low-cut black blouse.
Her tongue darted directly towards the back of Jacques’s throat, his own tongue barely quick enough to intercept it. Their tongues swirled against each other like two wet serpents in an intimate mating ritual. There was only so much volume to be explored in their mouths, so their attentions both quickly shifted towards the buttons on their chests. Jacques deftly unbuttoned the buttons on Melanie’s blouse, and her blouse hit the floor before she could even blink. Her breasts were as perky as ever, nearly popping out of her lace bra.
But it was Melanie’s turn to do some undressing for Jacques, and she reached up to unbutton his shirt. As she ripped open the front, it revealed his toned chest, which she promptly ran her hand over, appreciating every curve and valley of his chiseled torso. Jacques was quick to reciprocate the removal, unsnapping the back of her bra with one hand, like a magician performing his most comfortable routine. Melanie’s breasts were unleashed, two spotlights shining straight into Jacques’s intrigued eyes.
His pants and her skirt fell to the floor like dead weight ejected from an overloaded aircraft, and they were down to their underwear right next to Melanie’s kitchen island. Completely oblivious to the fact that the big boxes of blackberries were right on the edge of the counter they were undressing very close to, they took off their undergarments simultaneously, exposing their private parts to each other like they had many times before.
Jacques took Melanie into his arms, his throbbing member grazing against her labia. She was getting wetter than the lettuce at the grocery store right after being sprayed with water. A moan escaped her mouth as he inserted a finger into her sex, gently caressing her clitoris. She could feel every joint in his finger hitting her spot, waves of pleasure spreading from that region with every point of contact. She closed her eyes and threw her head back, right as Jacques inserted a second finger. Her juices increased from mere droplets to a steady trickle, his fingers getting completely oiled up from her excitement.
It was her turn, as Melanie grasped his penis with her right hand. She could feel his pulse in her palm, and she began stroking it up and down. He, too, let out a moan, as he released his own fluids, their hands now both covered in each other’s sexual secretions. The manual stroking continued for a while, and their tongues continued to explore each other’s mouths.
Jacques’s tongue exited her mouth and traveled down her front, encircling her large nipples on the way down to her groin. His tongue flitted about her clitoris, teasing her for a bit while she moaned. His tongue found its way into her vagina, tasting all of the nectar this peach was offering. The tip of his tongue reached her secret spot, the elusive spot that so few men could reach. As the tip grazed it gently, her moans gradually got louder, and she yelled that she needed him inside of her, now.
Jacques obliged eagerly, inserting his penis into her effortlessly. She jumped and wrapped her legs around his waist while he started to thrust into her. Up and down went her body, as she threw her head back to look at the ceiling, right before closing her eyes, lost in a haze of ecstasy. The pumping became increasingly faster, as if the end of the world were coming and they needed to reach one last climax. Their moans became louder and louder, sweat dripping down their foreheads, the tip of his penis hitting her G-spot with increasing frequency.
The point of no return had come for both of them, and they both knew it from the intensity of their moans. This was a place they had reached together many times before, and every time it was a new adventure. Their eyes were both closed when Jacques shot his load deep inside of her. As it shot up into her, she simultaneously climaxed, her vaginal walls constricting around his convulsing penis.
Neither of them could keep their balance anymore, strength leaving their knees, and she desperately reached towards the kitchen island. In the process, she hit one of the boxes of blackberries, sending the contents flying in the other direction. Some of them landed in the financier batter she had portioned into the molds.
The intensity of the sex over, she went over to the sink to wash her hands. She examined her financier batter, now dotted with blackberries. Maybe this could work out as it was, she thought to herself. Even though the financiers were delicious on their own, adding the tartness of a blackberry might elevate it to new heights. So she went with it. With the oven preheated already, she stuck the tray into the oven and set the timer.
She turned around to see her man leaning against the kitchen island, his chest heaving from all of the exertion. He was soft now, his face flush, the sweat still on his forehead. But what a beautiful sight that was. He thought the same of her slim body with the ample breasts, his fluids starting to leak out of her and onto the floor.
After cleaning up and getting dressed, the timer went off, and Melanie checked on her financiers with the added berries. They seemed to have turned out well, golden brown with bits of blackberry peeking out from underneath the surface. After unmolding them and letting them cool a bit, she popped one into her mouth. The familiar taste of butter and almond filled her mouth, and there was an added pop of tartness when she bit into the blackberry. It was a perfect union, the rich cake with the tart blackberry.
This day had been great for Melanie. Wonderful sex, discovered a new variation on a favorite recipe. What more could she want? Well, perhaps another romp in the hay with her man.
Gosh that was getting a bit unsanitary towards the end, but I have faith that Melanie, being a master baker, is an incredibly hygienic person. Anyway, here’s the recipe, which I got from here.
Blackberry Financiers
1/2 cup plus 5 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 cup sliced almonds [I just used about 3/4 cup of almond flour]
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1 1/2 cups plus 2 tablespoons powdered sugar
5 large egg whites
2 tablespoons honey
2 cups blackberries, halved
- Melt the butter in a saucepan over medium heat, and simmer until brown bits begin to form.
- Scrape the brown bits from the bottom of the saucepan, and keep stirring until dark brown, but not burnt.
- Scrape the butter and the brown bits into a bowl to cool.
- Process the almonds and all-purpose flour in a food processor until finely ground (or just use almond flour and mix them together).
- Mix the almond and flour mixture with the powdered sugar.
- Add egg whites, and mix until smooth.
- Fold in the honey.
- Fold in the brown butter.
- Cover the batter and let it chill for at least 90 minutes.
- Preheat oven to 375F.
- Grease and optionally line with mini-muffin liners a mini-muffin tin.
- Fill mini-muffin cups about 3/4 full, and press 3-4 blackberry halves into each one.
- Bake until the cakes are golden brown and cooked through, about 15~16 minutes.
- Let the cakes cool in the pan for 10 minutes, and then remove them from the pan.
- Dust with powdered sugar before serving.
The batter, with almond flour and butter and all that good stuff.
The batter, rather sloppily poured into a mini-muffin tin.
Being as small as they are, I could only fit one blackberry half into each one without it looking overwhelmed with blackberries. How do they fit 3 halves into each one? They must be using really small blackberries.
Nice and golden brown after their little stay in the oven.
Dusted with powdered sugar.
These cakes are pretty dense little things, but they were quite delicious. Next time, I think I’ll force some more blackberries into each one for even more fruit flavor.