Chocolate Cakes and Desserts to Order

When somebody says they want a chocolate cake, they mean one of two things and they rarely say which.

Some people want richness. Dense, dark, almost fudge like, the sort of cake where one small slice is enough and a second would be too much. Others want the flavour of chocolate carried in something light, so they can eat a proper slice and enjoy the whole of it.

These pull in opposite directions, and choosing wrongly is the most common way a chocolate cake disappoints.

Prague cake, for the flavour

Our main chocolate cake, and the one we would recommend for most occasions.

It was developed at the Prague restaurant in Moscow in the 1970s, loosely modelled on Sachertorte and then taken somewhere else entirely. Three layers of cocoa sponge, soaked in syrup so they stay properly moist, with chocolate cream between them. Apricot jam under a poured chocolate glaze on top.

The jam is why it works. A cake that is chocolate sponge, chocolate cream and chocolate glaze is chocolate stacked on chocolate, and it sits heavily after two forkfuls. The thin sharp layer of apricot under the glaze breaks it up and resets your palate, which is why you go back for a second slice.

The syrup soak is the other thing that separates it from a British chocolate cake. It keeps the sponge moist for days rather than hours, so it is still good on day three.

18 cm, ten to twelve slices, £75. Contains gluten, eggs, milk and soya.

Bird's Milk Cakefrom £78Cake “Charodeyka”£61

Bird's Milk, for the texture

Not really a chocolate cake, though it is the one people order when they want chocolate and want to be surprised.

Ptichye Moloko was invented in Moscow in the 1960s and the name is a joke about something so rare it does not exist. A thin sponge base carries a thick set soufflé layer, pale and somewhere between a mousse and a marshmallow without being either. Over that goes dark Belgian chocolate, poured warm so it sets into a shell that cracks cleanly under a knife.

The chocolate is a shell rather than the substance of the cake, and the contrast between the crack of it and the softness underneath is the entire point. It is also much lighter than it looks, because most of the volume is aerated.

Order this for somebody from the former Soviet Union and it will mean considerably more than a cake usually does. 18 cm, £78. Contains gluten, eggs, soya and milk.

Charodeyka, for a weekday

Airy sponge, soft custard cream, chocolate glaze poured over the top so it sets smooth and shines.

This was a shop cake rather than a home cake in the Soviet Union, which is why people are fond of it. There is nothing clever about it and nothing to explain, which is exactly what makes it right for a children's birthday or a Sunday when you simply want cake in the house.

At £50 it is the least expensive cake we make. It is the one we would suggest for a first order, and children eat it without any persuasion.

Meringue roll, for something lighter

Baked flat, filled with fresh cream and berries while it still has some give, and rolled before it sets hard. Rolled too late it cracks the whole way along, so there is a narrow window.

It is crisp outside and soft within, and it is much lighter than it looks. At £45 it is one of the cheapest things on the site, and it is a good choice when you want something that looks considered without committing to a full layer cake.

Bear in the North, for the nostalgic

Our own cake, built on the flavours of Mishka na Severe, the sweets almost everybody from the former Soviet Union can picture from the wrapper.

Chocolate, almond and a wafer layer that keeps some crispness inside an otherwise soft cake. Nobody else makes it because it is ours rather than a traditional recipe with a fixed form. It usually takes a slice and a pause before somebody works out what it reminds them of.

18 cm, £68.

The small chocolate things

Orange truffles, £48 for twenty. Dark chocolate ganache with orange worked into it rather than added on top, so it reads as sharp rather than sweet. They keep for a couple of weeks, unlike almost everything else we make, which makes them the sensible choice for a gift.

Chocolate selection, £15 for ten, in pistachio, raspberry and ginger, or cranberry, raisin and walnut. The cheapest thing we make and mostly ordered alongside something else.

Florentines, £23 for six. More caramel and nut than biscuit, with almonds, sesame and cranberries bound in caramel and finished with dark chocolate underneath. The sesame gives them a savoury edge that stops the caramel becoming sickly, and they keep well in a tin.

Cocoa pod cupcakes, £40 for four. Rich chocolate cakes moulded by hand into the shape of cocoa pods, each filled with a smooth nut centre. They take longer than anything else of their size and they are the thing on a table that people ask about.

Ferrero style oreshki, £40 for twenty. Pressed shortbread shells filled with soft chocolate cream, and the version children reliably prefer over the classic dulce de leche.

Choosing between them

For a dinner party, none of the above. Chocolate after three courses is heavy going and the lemon tart or the pavlova will be better received.

For an afternoon with tea, the Prague.

For a child's birthday, the Charodeyka.

For a gift being sent to somebody's home, the truffles or the Florentines, because they keep and they do not need eating that day.

For somebody who grew up in Russia or Ukraine, Bird's Milk, without hesitation.

All the cakes are 18 cm, need 48 hours notice, and are delivered across London and Surrey at £12 within SW3 or £15 elsewhere. There is a £50 minimum order.