GBBO Translation: Mary Berry's Tiramisu Cake

Happy Valentine's Day, my dear readers! I love you all very much and hope you have a beautiful day, whether you're celebrating or not. As promised last time, I'm going to be making Mary Berry's Tiramisu Cake, featured in Dessert week of Series 5, which aired in the United States as Season 1 on PBS or can be found on Netflix US as Collection 1. It was a lovely episode that made me want to eat all the things (okay, all the episodes of Great British Baking Show make me want to eat all the things, but you get my drift). The tiramisu cake was also featured in the Masterclass season that went with this, available on Netflix as Great British Baking Show Masterclass: Season 1, Epsiode 2, where you can see Mary Berry make it herself.

I know it seems like we just did a cake recipe, since the Victoria Sandwich was only about a month ago, but tiramisu is such a beautiful, romantic dessert that I thought it would be nice to go around Valentine's Day. And since Valentine's day fell on a Thursday this year, this would be a lovely dessert to have with a weekend celebration of your love. Or a celebration of yourself, if Valentine's isn't your thing. Or in my case, to celebrate my birthday. I love tiramisu and I love cake, and if you're looking to justify your consumption of cake, the absolute, most irrefutable excuse is "It's my birthday!" So we're having tiramisu in cake form. Because we can.

I found the recipe for this one on the PBS Food website, so it's already partially translated because the good people at PBS know that too many of us look at the metric system and our brains become as instantly empty as if the Men in Black just blanked our memories with that flashy thing. But PBS didn't provide the volumetric equivalents that many of us fall back on, so I added those in green along with a few notes.

For the sponge:

a little softened butter, for greasing

4 large free-range eggs

100g (3½ oz) 1/3 cup + 1 Tablespoon caster sugar

100g (3½ oz) 1/2 cup self-raising flour

For the filling:

1 tbsp instant coffee granules

150ml (5½ fl oz) 2/3 cups boiling water

100ml (3½ fl oz) 1/2 cups brandy

3 x 250g (9 oz) tubs full-fat mascarpone cheese

300ml (10½ fl oz) 1.25 cups double cream/heavy whipping cream

3 tbsp icing (powdered) sugar, sifted

65g (2¼ oz) dark chocolate (36% cocoa solids), grated

For the decoration:

100g (3½ oz) 2/3 cups dark chocolate, (70% cocoa solids), finely chopped

2 tbsp cocoa powder

Preheat the oven to 180C/160C(fan)/350F/Gas 4. Grease a 35x25cm/14x10in* Swiss roll tin and line with baking parchment.

For the sponge, place the eggs and sugar in a large bowl and, using an electric hand-held mixer, whisk together for about five minutes, or until the mixture is very pale and thick. The mixture should leave a light trail on the surface when the whisk is lifted. Sift over the flour and fold in gently using a metal spoon or spatula, taking care not to over mix. Pour the mixture into the prepared cake tin and tilt the tin to level the surface. Bake for 20 minutes, or until risen, golden-brown and springy to the touch. Cool in the tin for five minutes then turn out onto a wire rack and leave to cool completely.

For the filling, dissolve the coffee in the boiling water and add the brandy. Set aside to cool.

When the sponge is cold, carefully slice the cake in half horizontally, so you have two thin sponges of equal depth. Using the loose base of a square cake tin as a guide, cut two 18cm (7 in)* squares from each sponge. Discard the sponge trimmings (or keep for cake pops or a sneaky single-serving trifle).

Line the base and sides of the square tin with long rectangles of baking parchment; there should be plenty of excess parchment which you can use to help lift the cake from the tin later.

Place the mascarpone cheese in a large bowl and beat until smooth. Gradually beat in the cream and icing sugar to make a creamy, spreadable frosting.

Place one layer of sponge in the base of the lined cake tin. Spoon over one-quarter of the coffee brandy mixture. Then spread one-quarter of the mascarpone frosting over the soaked sponge. Scatter over one-third of the grated chocolate. Place the second sponge on top, spoon over another quarter of the coffee mixture then spread another quarter of the frosting over the soaked sponge. Scatter over another one third of the grated chocolate. Repeat with the third sponge and another one-quarter of the coffee mixture and frosting and the remaining grated chocolate. Place the fourth sponge on top and spoon over the remaining coffee mixture.

Using a palette knife spread a very thin layer of the remaining frosting over the top of the cake – this is called a ‘crumb coat’ and will seal in any loose crumbs of sponge. Wipe the palette knife and spread the rest of the frosting in a thicker layer over the cake. Chill for at least one hour in the fridge before turning out.

While the cake is chilling, melt half of the chopped chocolate in a small bowl set over a pan of gently simmering water. (Do not let the bottom of the bowl touch the water.) Gently stir the chocolate until it reaches a melting temperature of 53C (127 F). Remove the bowl from the heat and add the remaining half of chopped chocolate and continuing stirring gently until the chocolate cools to 31C (88 F) or lower and is thick enough to pipe.

Place a sheet of baking parchment on the work surface. Use another sheet to make a paper piping bag.** Spoon the melted chocolate into the paper piping bag. Snip off the end and pipe decorative shapes onto the baking parchment. Leave to set until required.

Dust the chilled tiramisu cake with the cocoa powder before turning out onto a serving plate, using the parchment paper to help lift out of the tin. Decorate with the chocolate shapes.

*If you've spent even a little bit of time in the kitchen, you may have looked at the measurements for the required pan and thought, "Buckets of bubbling bugbear fat!! I've never even heard of that size pan!" Well, I'd be a little surprised if you said "buckets of bubbling bugbear fat," but I, too, had never heard of a pan that size. I have one that is 8.5x12, and I have 9x13. I did find that King Arthur Flour sells a jelly roll pan that is 9.5x14, which is probably about as close as you're going to get. But I don't want to have to buy a pan that I'm not going to use very often, (because I use what I already have if I'm making a rolled cake) and I don't want you to have that excuse standing in your way either. So I'm going to make this cake in a 9x13 pan (the standard casserole size pan).

The main thing to keep in mind when you use a different size pan than what a recipe recommends is that the cook time will be a little different. Because this pan is a little bit smaller than what Mary Berry recommends, my cake will be a little bit thicker, and I anticipate that it will take just a little bit longer to cook. The good news, though, is that the thicker layers should be a little bit easier to work with.

Even if I had purchased the jelly roll pan, the recipe asks for a second pan for the assembly of the cake, a 7x7 square pan, which I also do not have and don't expect you to have either. I'm going to see if I can hack something together to make it work, especially since it's just a form to help assembly, and so it doesn't have to be oven-safe. Remember, baking is a creative exercise, but not always in the way people assume!

**I have no idea how to make my own piping bag out of a sheet of anything. I'm going to ask the trusty Google, give it a try, and probably just end up using a piping bag that I already have. I'll let you know what happens...

On Your Marks, Get Set, Bake!

The bakers were given two and a half hours for this challenge, and while I don't normally hold myself to the time restrictions when I try my spatula at these recipes, I did have a meeting later in the evening, so I had a bit of an actual, self-imposed time crunch on this one.

I set my oven to preheat at 355F. The typical American baking temperature for cakes and cookies tends to be 350, which is fine for you to do, but 355 is closer when converting from 180C, and my oven goes by 5 degree increments, so it's easy to give it that little extra accuracy. Five degrees won't make a huge difference, but do what works for you. Then I got started with the sponge by mixing together four eggs and the sugar. As with the Victoria Sandwich, I ran my sugar through a small food processor to make it a little bit finer. If you can find fine sugar, it will work better than regular granulated sugar. Granulated sugar will also probably give you acceptable results, but if you have a small food processor or a blender, try running your sugar through it for a few seconds.

Mary's directions say to use a handheld mixer, which will work fine, but I am fortunate enough to have a beautiful KitchenAid stand mixer, so I put the wire whip attachment on it and set it to work on the eggs and sugar while I weighed out my flour. Again, as with the Victoria Sandwich, the recipe calls for self-raising flour. If you have American self-raising flour, be aware that it has a bit of salt in it that the British variety doesn't have. It probably won't be enough to mess with flavor, but if something seems off with your attempt, that might be it. I opted to use good ol' all-purpose flour and some baking powder. If you're measuring your ingredients by volume, measure out your flour and then remove about a tablespoon's worth and throw in a tablespoon of baking powder. Since I measured with my scale (and then measured the volume of that to pass along to you), I put my tablespoon of baking powder in first and then added flour until my scale read 100g.

By this time, the eggs and sugar were not quite as pale and thick as I thought they should be, so I continued to multitask by buttering my pan and lining it with parchment. While it may not be absolutely necessary to do both of those things, I did it anyway, and it worked fine. If you decide to skip a step, maybe skip the buttering. The parchment keeps the cake from sticking to the pan, which butter would also do, but I found that when I baked the cake, it shrank away from the sides a fair amount and bypassing the parchment might make the cake crack, or worse, stick on the bottom when you turn it out. I didn't want to take chances so I buttered the pan and then lined it with paper, and while it did seem to waste a little bit of butter, it helped the parchment stick against the pan before I put the batter in, which I found convenient.

Pan prepped, flour ready, I found that the eggs were still not quite where I wanted them. They were definitely lighter, but I thought they could go more, so I prepared my boiling water. That sounds super awkward for such a simple task but let me break it down for you: If you have an electric kettle, now is the time to turn it on and get it ready. If you have a stove top kettle, fill it up and start it heating 10 minutes ago (or about when you start preheating your oven). If you heat up your tea water in the microwave, apologize to all your British friends, vow to get a better method of heating water, and then start microwaving some water to dissolve your instant espresso in. I have a 2-in-1 coffee pot thing that makes coffee on one side and has a separate reservoir and spigot for hot water. I double checked that it was full and pushed "On/Off." Luckily, it was off when I pushed the button, and so it turned on and began heating my water. Otherwise my grand plans would have been ruined.

I turned around and saw that the sugary eggs were much fluffier than I expected. I made some sort of "uh oh!" sound and stopped the mixer. They were very pale and a bit thick. I wondered if I had mixed them too far and then shrugged and said, "Let's see what happens!" I sifted the baking powder and flour over the mixture and folded it in. It seemed to go in pretty quickly, and I didn't want to risk deflating the batter or overworking the flour so after a couple extra stirs just to be safe, I poured the buttery-yellow batter into the cake pan.

Lumpy in the middle, runny on the edges

It oozed seductively from the bowl into the pan like creamy, liquid sunshine... and then SPLOOT! A big ugly glob fell out. I tried to spread the glob and found that it was all the flour that evaded my spatula. (I really had been suspicious of how quickly the stirring had gone. I guess that answered that question.) I tried momentarily to stir the floury bits out into the batter but it was looking worse and worse. Luckily I had rewatched the episode that featured this recipe and remembered that at least two of the bakers had to completely remake their sponges. I hadn't even baked this one yet, so maybe I would still have enough time. I pitched the lumpy batter and ruined parchment and snapped "Oh, shut up!" at the oven when it told me with an obnoxious and clearly sarcastic beep that it was finished preheating.

After quickly washing my bowl, I cracked four more eggs into it and set them to whipping with another batch of briefly blitzed sugar. The pan didn't need re-buttering, really, so I just put new paper in it and took a deep breath. In all my attempts at technical challenge recipes so far, I've always taken longer than the time given. For the life of me, I don't know how so many of the bakers can risk starting over and still have anything to show to the judges. While the eggs and sugar continued to whip, I measured out some of my now-boiling water and mixed it with some instant espresso powder and then added the brandy to allow the mixture to start cooling.

I will also say this: I don't know much about brandy (other than I've heard that the sailors all say she's a fine girl, and what a good wife she would be, but they are more devoted to the sea than they ever could be to her). I got the second cheapest kind that they had at the liquor store. If you're a brandy connoisseur, use what you like. If you're clueless (like me), I feel like a good rule of thumb for using liquor in baking is to go fairly middle of the road, don't break the bank, but also don't ruin your efforts with swill either.

By the time I had mixed up the coffee and brandy, taken a couple of pictures, re-measured my flour and baking soda, and written down some more volumetric conversions for you, my lovely readers, the eggs and sugar were looking pretty good. I sifted and folded in the flour, this time taking extra care to get all the sneaky lumps that tried to sink into the fluffy egg mix. When I was confident that the batter would be okay this time, I poured it into the pan, leveled it just a bit, stuck it in the oven, and set a timer for twenty minutes.

While the cake was baking, I washed a few dishes and began mixing up the filling. I haven't worked with mascarpone cheese a lot, and it is a little difficult to find. For those who may be unfamiliar with mascarpone, it is an Italian cream cheese with a very mild and fresh flavor. Every once in a while, you might find it at Aldi under the refrigerated "Aldi finds" section, but if you have a grocery store with a good cheese selection, that is probably your safest bet for finding this indulgent delight when you actually need it. If you can't find it at all, you can probably use cream cheese, but know that it will definitely taste different. Mascarpone doesn't have that tang that cream cheese is so well known for, but the texture is relatively similar.

So beautiful! Don't you want to just swim in it?

The mascarpone, cream, and powdered sugar came together beautifully. The trick is to beat the mascarpone first and then slowly trickle in the cream, pausing if the mix starts to sound too wet. It's also worth noting that the "double cream" called for in this recipe has a higher fat content than our heavy whipping cream, but it's pretty difficult to find anything with higher fat that heavy whipping cream here, so that's what I used. (Nobody said this was a skinny dessert!) But seriously, I couldn't get enough of how beautifully the cream and cheese came together. It was like a sunset, or the moon; I just couldn't get a picture that accurately portrayed how gorgeous all the ripples and swoops were. It was like watching taffy being pulled, but even when it wasn't moving. (Okay, I admit I might have some kind of problem, but there really was something very beautiful about the folds of the cream cheese.) I took a few more inadequate pictures and put the filling in the fridge.

While I had been fawning over the mascarpone filling, the timer on the cake had gone off, and I checked the cake accordingly. It looked done, but when I gave it a tap, I burned my hand on the edge of the pan and shouted a quick but effective expletive it didn't quite spring back, so I gave it two more minutes, which was exactly what it needed. Once the cake was out and cooling, a couple things came to my attention:

1) the cake smelled exactly like overcooked scrambled eggs.

2) I should have already started on the chocolate if it was going to set anytime soon.

The egg smell was not particularly confusing (the cake was, after all, largely eggs), but I was a little worried that it would taste like eggs. I don't have any particular dislike for eggs (they're not my favorite, but done right they can be pretty tasty), and some things are really good when they're eggy (challah, brioche, and cake batter ice cream for example) but baked goods should never taste like scrambled egg.

I decided to just worry about that when it came to it and start work on the chocolate. I chopped up some chocolate (I found some good quality chocolate at Aldi. I know I keep mentioning them, and truly, shop where you want, but being a European company, they're definitely worth checking for some of the items where you might want more traditionally European quality, like chocolate and cheese).

I fairly frequently melt chocolate at my house (intentionally!) but I don't think I've ever actually tempered chocolate before. (My most common application of melted chocolate is onto fresh strawberries. Seriously, don't buy chocolate covered strawberries unless it's to support a locally owned business. They're so easy to make at home and so much cheaper. Your Valentine will thank you.) So this time I used my handy thermometer spatula and measured the temperature of the chocolate as I melted it.

Here's the true story, though: It took longer than it should have for me to get the chocolate up to temperature, and then I overshot it and it got too warm and I couldn't cool it back down quickly enough. I even took the bowl outside and stood on the deck in the 40 degree weather, stirring rapidly and telling Pippin that he absolutely could not have any, no matter how hopefully he sniffed at my elbow, because chocolate is puppy poison.

After a few minutes I decided my chocolate just wasn't going to be quite tempered (I even thought I saw some small granules forming in it and feared I had scorched it, but it tasted fine and wasn't gritty when I dipped my finger in). I also toyed with some anger/temper related puns and then decided that you deserved better than that. You're welcome.

But then I was faced with Mary's instructions to "make a paper piping bag." The bakers on the show had not done this, but it seemed like a good skill to have. I Googled how to do this and watched the first video that came up. I gave it a try. And you know what? I think it turned out okay! My cone was a little on the small side, but I didn't think that would be too much of a problem. And while disposable plastic piping bags are very convenient, I am definitely a fan of using less plastic. I may actually using paper piping bags more often now.

I prepared another piece of parchment to make some chocolate decorations. Because I'm making this as a Valentine's recipe I decided to go with hearts. They're simple and cute and on theme. I loaded the melted chocolate into my paper piping bag, snipped off the end and set to work.

It quickly became overwhelmingly evident that I had overfilled my piping bag. Even though I tried to roll the top closed, warm chocolate was undeniably oozing all over the top of my hand. I scrawled out as many hearts as I could (with the intent of picking the dozen or so that were most identical once they were done) before the chocolate oozed down my knuckles to drip on my work and ruin my swoopy, carefree hearts.  The chocolate went much farther than I thought it would and soon the parchment looked like an eight year old with a crush had gotten hold of it. I squeezed the remaining chocolate back into the bowl and licked my hand while I walked over to the sink. After all, I couldn't waste all that high quality European chocolate!

Once my hands were washed and the chocolate hearts were setting, I returned my attention to the cake. The way that the cake had shrunk made the edges a little bit crumply, but over all I was pleased with the rise I got on the cake. Cutting it horizontally didn't seem too difficult a problem, but I didn't count on my bread knife (easily the longest knife I have) not being quite long enough to reach all the way through the cake. After a few attempts, I prevailed, though, and trimmed the wonkiest edge off and cut the cake in half vertically to yield four even-ish layers of cake. The cake definitely had a nice open structure, very similar to what was shown on the show, and even though it still smelled a bit like scrambled eggs, I braved a taste of the trimmed pieces. With great relief I knew I could continue: the cake did not taste like scrambled egg.

I looked around my house a bit for a cereal box or something I could use to act as a form for the assembly of the cake, and do you know what I decided? I decided I wouldn't use one, and looking back, I'm not sure you need to use one either. I built the cake on a parchment lined baking pan for ease of transport and cleanup, but it really was fairly sturdy and I don't think I was hurt for not using something to hold the sides in.

The first set of layering

I assembled the layers as instructed. You also may have noticed that I didn't give a volumetric conversion for the amount of grated chocolate that get layered in. Here's why: It's far more efficient to just grate the chocolate directly over the cake as you go than to grate a whole pile and spoon it on. You can get more even coverage this way, and your volume of grated chocolate is going to differ significantly depending on the size of the holes in your grater. Instead, just buy a chocolate bar that is at least 2.25 ounces (this will be basically any chocolate bar; maybe not a fun size), and use that. You'll have some chocolate left over and you can just eat that. Consider it a reward for all your hard work on this beautiful cake.

To assemble, I placed one of the cake slices on my prepared work surface and brushed some of the coffee/brandy mixture over the cake. You could probably actually spoon it over, like the instructions say, but brushing allows for a more even distribution. I also decided that it would be easiest to pipe the mascarpone filling than to just spread it on with a spatula from a lump. I didn't make my own bag out of paper this time, but I used my biggest reusable bag with a large, round tip. Since I wasn't using a mold to keep the edges neat, I piped around the edge of the cake first and then filled in the rectangle. I did smooth that part out, then, to make more even layers, but I was careful to keep the visible edges of the filling smooth. I grated on some chocolate and repeated the process. I also tested to see if it mattered which way the cake layers were placed. If your layers are pretty even, it won't make too much of a difference if you place them cut-side-up or cut-side-down for the final construction of the cake, but the brandy/coffee seems to soak in better when brushed onto a the cut side. It still soaked into the clean side, but not as quickly and it was harder to gauge how evenly it had been absorbed.

I did make sure that I put the final layer cut-side-down, though, because the cake was prone to crumbing if bumped, which is probably why the instructions from Mary Berry include a note about a crumb coat. If you pipe the mascarpone on fairly thickly, though, I found that I didn't need a crumb coat (additionally, a crumb coat is usually chilled before covering with the decorative fluffy layer of frosting, and I didn't have the time to stick it in the fridge for an extra 20 minutes.

The instructions were also a little unclear about whether the final layer should be just on the top or around the sides also. I chose to only cover the top for two reasons: 1) the sides of the cakes were exposed when the bakers made this recipe on the show; and 2), if you were assembling the cake in a tin, the sides wouldn't be accessible to frost. So only frost the top.

I sprinkled the top with cocoa powder as my husband lovingly watched, reminding me that we had to be somewhere in 15 minutes. In my head I could hear the Bake Off music intensifying as I finished sprinkling the cocoa. It crescendoed and I set down my sieve and stopped my timer: 2:17:47!

I had come in under the two and a half hour time restriction! But that's also without placing my chocolate decorations, which were still too soft to handle.

I stuck the cake and the chocolate hearts into the fridge and hung up my apron. It felt like a success.

The Judging

We ended up not getting home until late, so the decoration, presentation, and ultimate judging had to be put off for the next day, (which, if counted, would actually put me waaaaay over the time limit, but I'm not counting it) so my tiramisu cake had a little extra time to hang out in the fridge for the flavors to come together.

If you really want that beautiful, layered edge on display, this would be the time to carefully trim each edge back just a little, but I didn't want to risk ruining the whole thing like that, so you just get to see the cut edge of an individual, very indulgent slice of this beauty. It's pretty, don't you think?

But how does it taste? 

It's pretty good! I think it could have used a bit more of the coffee/brandy mixture. You can see in the picture that a lot of the cake doesn't look very soaked, even though I did use all of the liquid. I don't know if my cake ended up being bigger because it wasn't a square, but I did notice that Mary Berry's measuring cup shows at least 50mL more liquid than mine... The flavor and texture were nice, though, and the whole thing creamy and indulgent, but not too sweet. 

This is definitely a keeper recipe, and one that looks very elegant without being too much work. Now please excuse me while I go have another piece!

Mary Berry's Tiramisu Cake (slightly modified by Holly)

For the sponge:

a little softened butter, for greasing

4 large free-range eggs

100g (3½ oz) 1/3 cup + 1 Tablespoon caster sugar

100g (3½ oz) 1/2 cup self-raising flour

For the filling:

1 tbsp instant coffee granules

150ml (5½ fl oz) 2/3 cups boiling water

100ml (3½ fl oz) 1/2 cups brandy

3 x 250g (9 oz) tubs full-fat mascarpone cheese

300ml (10½ fl oz) 1.25 cups double cream/heavy whipping cream

3 tbsp icing (powdered) sugar, sifted

65g (2¼ oz) dark chocolate (36% cocoa solids), grated

For the decoration:

100g (3½ oz) 2/3 cups dark chocolate, (70% cocoa solids), finely chopped

2 tbsp cocoa powder

Preheat the oven to 180C/160C(fan)/350F/Gas 4. Grease a 9x13" inch cake pan and line with baking parchment.

For the sponge, place the eggs and sugar in a large bowl and, using an electric hand-held or stand mixer, whisk together for about five minutes, or until the mixture is very pale and thick. The mixture should leave a light trail on the surface when the whisk is lifted. Sift in the flour and fold in gently  but thoroughly using a metal spoon or spatula, taking care not to over mix. Pour the mixture into the prepared cake tin and tilt the tin to level the surface. Bake for 20 minutes, or until risen, golden-brown and springy to the touch. Cool in the tin for five minutes then turn out onto a wire rack and leave to cool completely.

For the filling, dissolve the coffee in the boiling water and add the brandy. Set aside to cool.

When the sponge is cold, carefully slice the cake in half horizontally, so you have two thin sponges of equal depth. Cut each sponge in half to create four equal rectangles, approximately 6x4.5". 

Place the mascarpone cheese in a large bowl and beat until smooth. Gradually beat in the cream and icing sugar to make a creamy, spreadable frosting.

To assemble the cake, place one layer of sponge on a lined serving dish. Brush or Spoon over one-quarter of the coffee brandy mixture. Then pipe and spread one-quarter of the mascarpone frosting over the soaked sponge. Grate a layer of chocolate directly onto the mascarpone frosting. Place the second sponge on top, spoon over another quarter of the coffee mixture then spread another quarter of the frosting over the soaked sponge. Grate another one third of the chocolate over the cake. Repeat with the third sponge and another one-quarter of the coffee mixture and frosting and the remaining grated chocolate. Place the fourth sponge on top, cut side down, and spoon over the remaining coffee mixture.

Using offset spatula, spread the rest of the frosting in a thicker layer over the top of the cake. Dust evenly with unsweetened cocoa powder and place cake in refrigerator to chill and firmly set.

While the cake is chilling, melt half of the chopped chocolate in a small bowl set over a pan of gently simmering water. (Do not let the bottom of the bowl touch the water.) Gently stir the chocolate until it reaches a melting temperature of 53C/127 F. Remove the bowl from the heat and add the remaining half of chopped chocolate and continuing stirring gently until the chocolate cools to 31C/88 F or lower and is thick enough to pipe.

Place a sheet of baking parchment on the work surface. Use another sheet to make a paper piping bag or use a small piping bag fitted with a small round tip. Spoon the melted chocolate into the piping bag. Snip off the end, if using paper or disposable plastic and pipe decorative shapes onto the baking parchment. Leave to set until required. Decorate with the chocolate shapes.