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100 Great Moments in the Movies
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Roger Ebert / April 23, 1995
For the centennial of cinema, 100 great moments from the movies:
Clark Gable in “Gone With the Wind”:
“Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.”
Buster Keaton standing perfectly still while the wall of a house falls over upon him; he is saved by being exactly placed for an open window.
Charlie Chaplin being recognized by the little blind girl in “City Lights.”
The computer Hal 9000 reading lips, in “2001: a Space Odyssey.”
The singing of “La Marseillaise” in “Casablanca.”
Snow White kissing Dopey Bashful on the head.
John Wayne putting the reins in his mouth in “True Grit” and galloping across the mountain meadow, weapons in both hands.
Jimmy Stewart in “Vertigo,” approaching Kim Novak across the room, realizing she embodies all of his obsessions – better than he knows.
The early film experiment proving that horses do sometimes have all four hoofs off the ground.
Gene Kelly singin’ in the rain.
Samuel L. Jackson and John Travolta discuss what they call Quarter Pounders in France, in “Pulp Fiction.”
The Man in the Moon getting a cannon shell in his eye, in the Melies film “A Voyage to the Moon.”
Pauline in peril, tied to the railroad tracks.
A boy running joyously to greet his returning father, in “Sounder.”
Harold Lloyd hanging from a clock face in “Safety Last.”
Orson Welles smiling enigmatically in the doorway in “The Third Man.”
An angel looking down sadly over Berlin, in Wim Wenders’ “Wings of Desire.”
The Zapruder film of the Kennedy assassination: Over and over again, a moment frozen in time.
A homesick North African, sadly telling a hooker that what he really wants is not sex but couscous, in Rainer Werner Fassbinder’s “Fear Eats the Soul: Ali.”
Wile E. Coyote, suspended in air.
Zero Mostel throwing a cup of cold coffee at the hysterical Gene Wilder in Mel Brooks’ “The Producers,” and Wilder screaming: “I’m still hysterical! Plus, now I’m wet!”
An old man all alone in his home, faced with the death of his wife and the indifference of his children, in Yasujiro Ozu’s “Tokyo Story.”
“Smoking.” Robert Mitchum’s response, holding up his cigarette, when Kirk Douglas offers him a smoke in “Out of the Past.”
Marcello Mastroianni and Anita Ekberg wading in the fountain in “La Dolce Vita.”
The moment in Akira Kurosawa’s “High and Low” when a millionaire discovers that it was not his son who was kidnapped, but his chauffeur’s son – and then the eyes of the two fathers meet.
The distant sight of people appearing over the horizon at the end of “Schindler’s List.”
R2D2 and C3PO in “Star Wars.”
E.T. and friend riding their bicycle across the face of the moon.
Marlon Brando’s screaming “Stella!” in “A Streetcar Named Desire.”
Hannibal Lecter smiling at Clarise in “The Silence of the Lambs.”
“Wait a minute! Wait a minute! You ain’t heard nothin’ yet!” The first words heard in the first talkie, “The Jazz Singer,” said by Al Jolson.
Jack Nicholson trying to order a chicken salad sandwich in “Five Easy Pieces.”
“Nobody’s perfect”: Joe E. Brown’s last line in “Some Like It Hot,” explaining to Tony Curtis why he plans to marry Jack Lemmon even though he is a man.
“Rosebud.”
The shooting party in Renoir’s “Rules of the Game.”
The haunted eyes of Antoine Doinel, Truffaut’s autobiographical hero, in the freeze frame that ends “The 400 Blows.”
Jean-Paul Belmondo flipping a cigarette into his mouth in Godard’s “Breathless.”
The casting of the great iron bell in Andrei Tarkovsky’s “Andrei Rublev.”
“What have you done to its eyes?” Dialogue by Mia Farrow in “Rosemary’s Baby.”
Moses parting the Red Sea in “The Ten Commandments.”
An old man found dead in a child’s swing, his mission completed, at the end of Kurosawa’s “Ikiru.”
The haunted eyes of the actress Maria Falconetti in Dreyer’s “The Passion of Joan of Arc.”
The children watching the train pass by in Ray’s “Pather Panchali.”
The baby carriage bouncing down the steps in Eisenstein’s “Battleship Potemkin.”
“Are you lookin’ at me?” Robert De Niro in “Taxi Driver.”
“My father made them an offer they couldn’t refuse:” Al Pacino in “The Godfather.”
The mysterious body in the photographs in Antonioni’s “Blow-Up.”
“One word, Benjamin: plastics.” From “The Graduate.”
A man dying in the desert in von Stroheim’s “Greed.”
Eva Marie Saint clinging to Cary Grant’s hand on Mt. Rushmore in “North by Northwest.”
Astaire and Rogers dancing.
“There ain’t no sanity clause!” Chico to Groucho in “A Night at the Opera.”
“They call me Mr. Tibbs.” Sidney Poitier in Norman Jewison’s “In the Heat of the Night.”
The sadness of the separated lovers in Jean Vigo’s “L’Atalante.”
The vast expanse of desert, and then tiny figures appearing, in “Lawrence of Arabia.”
Jack Nicholson on the back of the motorcycle, wearing a football helmet, in “Easy Rider.”
The geometrical choreography of the Busby Berkeley girls.
The peacock spreading its tail feathers in the snow, in Fellini’s “Amarcord.”
Robert Mitchum in “Night of the Hunter,” with “LOVE” tattooed on the knuckles of one hand, and “HATE” on the other.
Joan Baez singing “Joe Hill” in “Woodstock.”
Robert De Niro’s transformation from sleek boxer to paunchy nightclub owner in “Raging Bull.”
Bette Davis: “Fasten your seat belts; it’s gonna be a bumpy night!” in “All About Eve.”
“That spider is as big as a Buick!” Woody Allen in “Annie Hall.”
The chariot race in “Ben-Hur.”
Barbara Harris singing “It Don’t Worry Me” to calm a panicked crowd in Robert Altman’s “Nashville.”
The game of Russian roulette in “The Deer Hunter.”
Chase scenes: “The French Connection,” “Bullitt,” “Raiders of the Lost Ark,” “Diva.”
The shadow of the bottle hidden in the light fixture, in “The Lost Weekend.”
“I coulda been a contender.” Brando in “On the Waterfront.”
George C. Scott’s speech about the enemy in “Patton:” “We’re going to go through him like crap through a goose.”
Rocky Balboa running up the steps and pumping his hand into the air, with all of Philadelphia at his feet.
Debra Winger saying goodbye to her children in “Terms of Endearment.”
The montage of the kissing scenes in “Cinema Paradiso.”
The dinner guests who find they somehow cannot leave, in Bunuel’s “The Exterminating Angel.”
A knight plays chess with Death, in Bergman’s “The Seventh Seal.”
The savage zeal of the Klansmen in Griffith’s “The Birth of a Nation.”
The problem of the door that won’t stay closed, in Jacques Tati’s “Mr. Hulot’s Holiday.”
“I’m still big! It’s the pictures that got small!” Gloria Swanson in “Sunset Boulevard.”
“We’re a long way from Kansas!” Judy Garland in “The Wizard of Oz.”
An overhead shot beginning with an entrance hall, and ending with a closeup of a key in Ingrid Bergman’s hand, in Hitchcock’s “Notorious.”
“There ain’t much meat on her, but what’s there is choice.” Spencer Tracy about Katharine Hepburn in “Pat and Mike.”
The day’s outing of the mental patients in “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.”
“I always look well when I’m near death.” Greta Garbo to Robert Taylor in “Camille.”
“It took more than one night to change my name to Shanghai Lily.” Marlene Dietrich in “Shanghai Express.”
“I’m walkin’ here!” Dustin Hoffman in “Midnight Cowboy.”
W.C. Fields flinching as a prop man hurls handfuls of fake snow into his face in “The Fatal Glass of Beer.”
“The next time you got nothin’ to do, and lots of time to do it, come up and see me.” Mae West in “My Little Chickadee.”
“Top o’ the world, Ma!” James Cagney in “White Heat.”
Richard Burton exploding when Elizabeth Taylor reveals their “secret” in “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?”
Henry Fonda getting his hair cut in “My Darling Clementine.”
“Badges? We ain’t got no badges. We don’t need no badges. I don’t have to show you any stinkin’ badges!” Alfonso Bedoya to Humphrey Bogart in “The Treasure of the Sierra Madre.”
“There’s your dog. Your dog’s dead. But there had to be something that made it move. Doesn’t there?” Line from Errol Morris’ “Gates of Heaven.”
“Don’t touch the suit!” Burt Lancaster in “Atlantic City.”
Gena Rowlands arrives at John Cassavetes’ house with a taxicab full of adopted animals, in “Love Streams.”
“I want to live again. I want to live again. I want to live again. Please God, let me live again.” Jimmy Stewart to the angel in “It’s a Wonderful Life.”
Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr embrace on the beach in “From Here to Eternity.”
Mookie throws the trash can through the window of Sal’s Pizzeria, in “Do the Right Thing.”
“I love the smell of napalm in the morning,” dialogue by Robert Duvall, in “Apocalypse Now.”
“Nature, Mr. Allnut, is what we are put in this world to rise above.” Katharine Hepburn to Humphrey Bogart in “The African Queen.”
“Mother of mercy. Is this the end of Rico?” Edward G. Robinson in “Little Caesar.”
☑ Click to expand. Comments are open.
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Take my hand, I’m a stranger in Paradise
Two hand models. The top video has been posted as a behind-the-scenes glimpse of the lower one.
The Creepy Hand Model: Ellen Sirot with Michaela Watkins from Michaela Watkins
My TwitterPages are linked at the right.
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My Far-Flung Correspondent Michael Mirasol has an ad he wants you to see
Ebertfest Spot (45 sec.) from Michael Mirasol on Vimeo.
Ebert Club All-Time Short Film Retrospective
The Ebert Club recently celebrated its 2nd birthday and in honor of the occasion, we’d like to share a collection of short films which have appeared inside the Newsletter. The cream of the crop! And to explore an even greater assortment of finds and discoveries, please join the Ebert Club. Your subscription helps support the Newsletter, the Far-Flung Correspondents and the On-Demanders on Roger’s site.
Fly (2010) Directed by Alan Short, the “Fly” is part of a series of animated shorts from Aardman Animation. Synopsis: A man
and his pet dog attempt to remove a pesky fly with humorous results…
All hail Queen Ida! Clap your hands! Rotate your hips. Be happy. Be real happy.
I only saw Queen Ida once, but that was enough. No, not enough. But it was the only chance I had. This was at Holstein’s, the music saloon on North Halsted St. in Chicago, just down the street from Somebody Else’s Troubles and run by brothers Fred and Ed Holstein, who were at the heart of the city’s golden age of folk.
Holstein’s wasn’t a huge room, but it was packed. The pay must not have been great, but the Queen played like a million bucks. Her first language is French. She was the first woman to lead a zydeco band–zydeco, the music of the bayou.
There is such joy in her performance. I’ve been posting some pieces about New Orleans by my good friend Ellie Cooney. I mentioned Queen Ida. Many were the times, Ellie said, when “she danced me into a puddle of sweat.”
N.B.: In my quest spanning the years, I find that the best albums to play loud while exercising are Queen Ida’s and good Soca. That’s because most of the time you can’t quite understand the French, cajun and some English, mixed in a gumbo. Instrumental music can seem seem too insistent on the treadmill. A vocal gives you company, but spares you from following the words.
Opens with an interview with the Queen:
Cick here on the queen Ida Listening Page.
Here is her Wikipedia entry. The Queen is still with us at 83.
I love this sweet grandmother
My TwitterPages are linked at the right.
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My other neighborhood on Red Arrow Highway
On Red Arrow Highway, the old road along the Eastern shore of Lake Michigan from Chicago to Detroit, the past coexists with the present. There are old-fashioned pleasures, and not everything is in a strip mall and belongs to a chain. Actual human beings own places and sell you stuff it’s fun to buy. This area is known as Harbor Country.
Top to bottom: Oink’s Ice Cream Parlor and Fudge Shop in New Buffalo; chef and owner Ibrahim Parlak chatting with customers at his Cafe Gulistan in Harbert; the veggie stand on Red Arrow in Sawyer; Schlipp’s soda fountain in Sawyer; a car hop at Mikey’s Drive In on the highway in Bridgman; Ben Franklin’s Five and Ten Cent Store in Bridgman.
About five miles further away from Lake Michigan is the town of New Troy, which calls itself the Center of the World. The name comes from a general store that operated there from circa 1860 until 1976. When woodworker Terry Hanover and his wife settled there, they took over the name in 1976 for their wood shop, which is still there. Their showroom is on Red Arrow as it passes through Harbert.
Red Arrow even preserves a Shell station. Gas stations mostly all used to look like this. In the mirror is the road behind. Ahead are St. Joseph and Benton Harbor, and houses by Frank Lloyd Wright.
☑ Photos and video by Roger Ebert. You can use them but say where these good places are. All of my TwitterPages are linked under the category Pages in the right margin of this page.
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“Swan Lake” by the Great Chinese Circus
Thanks to dancer and critic Jana J. Monji for the suggestion.
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Amazon.com Widgets
Starting with one cell, we arrive at Prof. Hawking
Readable if you click to expand.
Errol Morris’s “A Brief History of Tme,” complete:
This Tree of Life, a larger version and an explanation of how to use it — all here at Evolutionary genealogy.
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Amazon.com Widgets
Rob Thomas sings “Smooth,” the song from the TV show with Matchbox 20
Smooth: The TV Show with Matchbox 20 from Rob Thomas
My drinking days, recalled in a noirish oil
The artist Marie Haws in Vancouver was drawn into a blog I wrote about the legendary O’Rourke’s Pub in Chicago, not so much by the prose as by the photograph I used, taken by my pal Jack Lane:
Marie returned to the photograph and again, finding depths in it, and was finally moved to paint this oil inspired by it:
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The photo shows me at the front end of of the bar talking with the writer Tom Wolfe. Neither Jack nor I can identify the man on the left, or Mystery Woman on the right. I’ve been told that M.W. resembles my girlfriend in the 70s, but there are two problems with that: (1) Ingrid never smoked a day in her life, and (2) M.W. in the oil looks like her, but M.W. in the photo doesn’t.
Of course, camera angle can be deceptive, so I will forward this to Ingrid and her four children and see what they think. Nothing would please me more than to find out who I have my arm around.
I am quite fond on this painting, the only one I have of myself. I do have a nearly life-size bronze bust, but lest you get the wrong impression, I didn’t commission it or pay for it. I posed for the class project of an art student whose assignment was to make a recognizable sculpture of a recognizable person.
[ 4:14 p.m. Nov 21, e-mail from Jack Lane: Mystery man on left is Dick Flynn, a mate of mine from the ad days. He and I were having a quiet Sunday evening drink and discussing worldly matters when a stranger entered the nearly empty bar. Dick said, a bit excitedly, that it was Tom Wolfe. I glanced over and disagreed, pointing out that the stranger was not wearing a white suit. Dick, who had been Wolfe’s neighbor in NYC, persisted and went over to verify his assessment. And indeed, he was right. The three of us had an hour or so of pleasant conversation until a horde of noisy re revelers descended upon us and the rest, as you know, is history. Jack ]
Marie has been a treasured regular on my blog almost from the beginning. She is known for (1) recklessly inserting so many URLs into her posts that they mostly end up trapped in the Spam filter, (2) inserting “*chuckle*” every once im a while, and (3) attempted assassination of her fellow blog posters with the astonishingchocolate cake recipe published below these three examples of her wonderful work:
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Girl in the Coat – 24″ x 36″ oil on canvas
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Tuscan hill-top vineyard, Italy – 24″ x 108″ oil on canvas
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Chianti region, Italy – 20″ x 26″ oil on canvas
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…and then, on Sunday morning, Marie Haws posted this comment:
I love that we’ve discovered the name of mystery guy; it’s D*ck Flynn! For how perfect is that?! Was there ever a name more ironic and thus better suited to be in a painting showing Roger Ebert at O’Rourke’s – than one shared in the blog the very same week he runs a “limerick contest”? Smile. I regard it as confirmation from the Gods that indeed, everything is connected.
And as noted, it all started with a journal entry and Roger’s memories of a pub in the dodgy part of Chicago, a place no longer there but when it was, of questionable repute; an Irish pub called O’Rourke’s. I just want to be comfortable, you know? I just want to sit down, enjoy a Kilkenny, chat with friends, maybe play a few rounds and pretend I don’t suck at pool, while catching a nice buzz. I don’t want to have to worry about how to pay a fancy coverage charge (insert really bad word!) or navigating past stupid yuppies to reach the bar – none of that crap.
And the very week Roger posted his journal entry about O’Rourke’s, was the same week “I” discovered the fate of my favorite watering hole: the “Irish Heather”. They’d moved across the street. Seems required upgrades to the building had forced the owner to choose the lesser of two evils: close his business for one year, or move. And this is partly what was lost because of it: the back room conservatory in a photo by Stephen Dyrgas….
Arguably THE most perfect spot to drink in Vancouver.
An alley runs behind the pub and covered in red bricks. They’d simply enclosed part of it to make an extra seating area. God, how I loved that place. So I was in full empathy mode, when Roger heaved a wistful sigh as he recollected the passing of one his favorite places, too! That’s how I could relate even though I’d never been there. I knew O’Rourke’s because I’d known the Heather. It too, was also in the dodgy part of town; smile.
For that reason, my emotional attachment to the place was immediate – and then I saw Jack Lane’s photographs! And suddenly, my next painting! But I needed better reference, which is how I got a hold of Jack’s B/W photos; I pestered Roger and he sent me some. And when I saw the alternate shot of him with Tom Wolfe… BINGO! Two guys in the middle of a conversation we can’t hear, flanked either side by mysteries for being equally as ignorant of what they were thinking, too.
Why does anyone go to a pub? To drink? I suppose, but not me. I think it’s where you go to drink a “conversation” too! And what’s better than a conversation you can custom tailor – for never knowing what was actually being said? It’s a blank page on which the viewer can write whatever they want! You can imagine all sorts of things! They could have been plotting a murder. What?! Don’t look at me like that – it’s Chicago. And two writers are in a bar. Enough said. 🙂
And so I loved that shot. It was sublime. Although… true; it does look like Roger’s groping himself in the photo, but I took care of that and changed it for the painting. And I dropped Flynn’s hand as well – as it kinda looks like he’s trying to punch Tom Wolfe in the jaw. But all minor stuff and easily dealt with. It took longer to paint than I’d planned – chasing the rent can be distracting – but I eventually finished it.
Actually, Roger got to see it as a work in progress. I was sending him photos in cyber dispatches while bugging him about the spam filter and stuff. So he knew weeks in advance how things were coming along. And then the day finally arrived when it was dry and ready to go to Chicago. I couldn’t afford the shipping and so he actually picked up the tab for his own present! How nice was that, eh? (As he didn’t make me feel like a cheap basterd; chuckle!) What?! I have to pay the postage on my own GIFT?! Jeeesh, and that’s so typically Canadian, I swear, you people…”
Smile; instead he just told me how much he loved it and Chaz too. And there you have it; that’s the story of the painting and how it came to be. I love O’Rourke’s vicariously so. I love how Roger’s memories of the place, feel. I love the conversations I get to imagine and the ongoing mystery of smoking girl and that Flynn’s name sounds the way it does. And that right now, my painting is inside Roger Ebert’s house; the same critic who didn’t like Harold and Maude. What’s that got to do with anything..? Rubbing hands together with a glee. (Or maybe I’m just f-cking with ya; laugh!) One thing however is not in doubt; how sincerely flattered I was by this. It caught me totally by surprise when you suddenly asked for a few pictures and my death by chocolate recipe!
I thought you’d just show the painting to Chaz and the kids, maybe Tom Wolfe and there you go! Note: that’s why it took me so long to write that post, the one I’d lost; I was actually at a loss for words! A rare moment that and I’ve moved past it now, as you can see. 🙂
@ Roger wrote: “I informed Marie that the ghosts of the O’Rourke’s Crowd still haunt the Old Town Ale House to this day. The owner is Bruce Elliott, a regular in those days. Marie, who loves Venice, might agree that a master of the Italian Renaissance would have been drawn to the same subject, albeit expressed in a somewhat different style, in Bruce’s own painting “The Strip-Searching of Rod Blagojevich.”
Oh absolutely. Without a doubt. Those dudes totally loved a bit of unpleasant business. Caravaggio for example, would have done a lovely job of it. Or whoever painted the rape of the Sabines. A strip search would have been a walk in park, chuckle!
@ Marta Chiavacci wrote – “Marie is not only an amazingly talented artist, she’s an even more amazing friend.” Awww! What a nice thing to say, Marta! But I’m still gonna tease you about wearing FIVE inch heels. As that’s insane and what real friends would do. Roger? Marta gave me my very first Bialetti! Her parents moved to Canada in the 50’s from Lucca, near Florence. And several years ago, Marta ironically moved to Lucca to live there! She fell in love with her second cousin, whose got a house near the medieval city.
She kept her place in Vancouver though and routinely travels back and forth; currently, she’s in town. And get this – Marta Chiavacci, a female born in Canada, moves to Italy, studies wine and ends up beating all the guys and becoming FISAR’s sommelier of the year in 2007. That’s right – I know an award-winning Sommelier. The girl I met in grade 7. Naturally, Marta gets to pick the wine whenever we go out to dinner, as otherwise, I buy wine based on how well designed the labels are. At the moment, she’s in the process of setting up her own wine business; guided tours of vineyards with a sommelier.
Marta’s interesting to know in her own right, but as a relocated Canadian, I get a close-up view of another country now too, through her dispatches about daily life in Italy. The truth of things. It’s like having my very own reporter on the ground! And the story of how she got a driver’s license in Italy, is a thing to behold. It takes days to tell, as it’s that serpentine a journey through their bureaucracy. Chuckle! And now you’ve got one of my paintings too, joining the club with Marta. Awesome.
P.S. now watch, I’ll die and suddenly those paintings will be worth a fortune!
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Marie Haws’ online gallery. .
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The blog entry that started all this, “A bar on North Avenue.” .
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I informed Marie that the ghosts of the O’Rourke’s Crowd still haunt the Old Town Ale House to this day. The owner is Bruce Elliott, a regular in those days. Marie, who loves Venice, might agree that a master of the Italian Renaissance would have been drawn to the same subject, albeit expressed in a somewhat different style, in Bruce’s own painting “The Strip-Searching of Rod Blagojevich.”
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The “DEATH BY CHOCOLATE” Recipe
8 oz high-quality bitter sweet chocolate (Valhrona is best!)
2/3 cup of butter
1/2 cup of white sugar
1/2 cup of brown sugar
4 eggs
1/3 cup of sour cream
1 teaspoon of vanilla
1/4 cup dark rich Dutch cocoa
1/2 cup of flour
1 1/2 teaspoon of baking powder
1/4 teaspoon of salt
Ganache glaze:
8 oz of bitter sweet chocolate (again, BEST you can find.)
1/2 cup of heavy cream (in Canada, in the dairy section next to the milk, you can find a pint of whipping cream. Americans call THAT heavy cream.)
Inside of the cake:
Raspberry liquor (or use a brandy)
1/4 cup of Raspberry Jam (or buy some fresh Raspberries and mash them up in a bowl and add 2 tbs of sugar (in case they’re a bit tart) and use that – I do, tastes fresher!
Instructions:
In a heavy bottom pan or double-boiler, melt the chocolate and butter on low heat. While that’s melting, combine the eggs and the white & brown sugars together, on medium speed in a mixer until somewhat light; you want the sugar to dissolve and not be sandy.
Check the chocolate. Melted? Remove from heat and stir. Set aside to cool a bit (you can use the fridge.) Once cool to the touch, pour melted chocolate in with the eggs and sugar and turn on the mixer for a few minutes to incorporate everything before you add the next ingredients…
To that, now add the flour, dark Dutch coco, salt, baking powder, sour cream, vanilla. Start on low speed then you can go a bit faster, and mix everything up, etc.
Preheat oven to 350F. Get a 9″ wide, by 3 inches deep springform pan. Remove bottom from pan, wrap it with tinfoil, put it back in the springform. Lightly spray the bottom and insides with a cooking oil spray – or use some melted margarine and a brush etc.
Note: I always set a springform pan on a cookie tray in case there’s any leakage, but you can also wrap the outside with more foil. Pour batter into Springform pan. Bake for 40 – 50 min. Test it with a toothpick at the 40 min mark etc. Done? Take it out, let it cool a bit before removing the top of the springform from the bottom.
Get your Raspberry jam ready. NOTE: if you don’t want raspberry seeds, pass the berries through a strainer over a small bowl (mash them through it etc.) Add the liquor etc.
Once the cake is completely cool, trim the top. Use a thin, serrated knife. You don’t need to remove the center bit. The top edge tend to be hardest and higher than the middle – so getting rid of that helps level things off. *DO NOT throw away what you cut off it case you need it, later.
Make the ganache: and make your life easier too, use a double-boiler. Most people don’t own professional grade pots ($150 each!) Put chocolate and cream in a doubler-boiler and stir on low heat. Once melted, turn off heat.
You need to cut the cake in half now. I have a better way to do it than is shown in the video below.
Get some toothpicks (4 will do it) and stick them around the sides of the cake, half-way up. Get a LONG sewing thread – a light color so you can see it. Wrap it around the cake and “above” each of toothpicks (they help keep the thread from slipping down as you make sure it’s positioned correctly. Tie your thread and slowly but steadily pull the ends. The thread will slice perfectly through the middle of the cake as you go etc. A trick I learned from a dessert chef. 🙂
Pull out the toothpicks, but stick 2 back in, on the sides: one in the top layer, another further down but right below it. This will help you when assembling the layers; a point of reference.
Get a serving plate for the cake. You’re going to transfer the TOP layer onto that.
Note: I took the lid from an ice cream bucket last year, and with an exacto knife, cut the rim off. It made a plastic circle. You can also use the glass from an 8×10 picture frame, if you like. Point is, this method tends to NOT break the cake for better supporting the entire weight of it as you move it over.
The Top layer is now the bottom layer – and if the center looks too low, build it up with some of the stuff you’d previously cut off. Pour Raspberry Jam onto the cake; spread it around. Get the ganache. Pour less than 1/2 onto the cake, spread that around too.
Get the bottom layer of the cake now. Flip it over, and place it on top of the layer with the jam and ganache. Match the toothpicks up; then pull them out. Remove the metal bottom and the tinfoil. You have a cake with a perfectly, flawless top!
Heat the ganache back up, you’re going to POUR the remaining glaze over the entire assembled cake. Use a long, wide spatula to help guide the chocolate ganache along and around the sides etc. Don’t have one? Use the longest, widest knife you own. Use a less pointy knife for the sides.
Clean any mess around the cake, and et voila; you’re done. Unless you want to decorate it too, based on what you see in the video.
Attention Helpless Males: step-by-step video instructions –
http://www.ehow.com/videos-on_687_make-death-chocolate-cake.html
And last but not least –
How to make a chocolate cake in a crock-pot:
http://www.ehow.com/how_2173304_chocolate-cake-crock-pot.html
GRIN.
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Visit my website, rogerebert.com.
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Farewell, First Lady of the Air
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“Injun Summer,” by John T. McCutcheon
For decades, John T, McCutcheon’s “Injun Summer” appeared every autumn on the front page of the Chicago Tribune, and was reprinted around the country. It has disappeared in recent years, a victim of political correctness.
Click to expand.
Siskel & Ebert recommend great summer movies
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He lives in Detroit, in the old Packard plant
Part of the “This Must Be the Place” series of The Atlantic. URL leads to all entries in the series. Thanks to Jana J.Monji, who writes me: “I used to live in a loft space from a former factory but that was in Pasadena and not Detroit (and my place was a bit neater) than this.”
The God Gene. A breakthrough
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My NetPages are linked at the right.
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Amazon.com Widgets
Pete Postlethwaite: 1946-2011
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Amazon.com Widgets
Remembrances of Roger
UPDATED (4/17/13): A selection of tributes and memories from those who knew, and read, Roger Ebert. More will be added as we collect them:
“For a generation of Americans — and especially Chicagoans — Roger was the movies. When he didn’t like a film, he was honest; when he did, he was effusive — capturing the unique power of the movies to take us somewhere magical.
“Even amidst his own battles with cancer, Roger was as productive as he was resilient — continuing to share his passion and perspective with the world. The movies won’t be the same without Roger, and our thoughts and prayers are with Chaz and the rest of the Ebert family.”
— President Barack Obama, April 4, 2013
