Project gingerbread

I finally got my Christmas act together over the past few days and decided to do gingerbread three ways. It seemed appropriate since there was an ancient carton of molasses hiding in my pantry that was begging to be used. Lacking an actual gingerbread man cookie cutter, I instead decided to use my alphabet cutters to spread some edible peace and joy.

Then, in reaction to my recent Costco macaron encounter, chocolate gingerbread macarons were created. I wanted them to taste identical to gingerbread but with the exact opposite texture, soft and rich. This was achieved by halving the amount of cocoa powder I usually use in my chocolate macaron recipe and adding powdered ginger, cinnamon, clove, and nutmeg along with a sprinkle of gingerbread crumbs. For extra punch, the ganache included molasses and the same four spices.

Having leftover yolks and cream always makes me think of ice cream, even in winter, and so gingerbread-spiced caramel ice cream was born. Although the ice cream is just for us to enjoy, the rest will be given away to the usual suspects. You know who you are. Have a happy and healthy holiday season everyone!

Project Puff

Spring has sprung here in Vancouver, evidenced by cherry-blossom lined streets and the accompanying pollen. I even dared to get my winter coat dry-cleaned and stored this week, although my boots are still on stand-by. These transitional seasons can often be disorienting to me, a person who admittedly does not deal well with change. I am a creature of habit who prefers repetition and routine with an occasional dose of interesting.

My interesting experience over the past two weeks was playing around with pâte feuilletée (puff pastry). It has been probably over two years since I have bothered to make puff pastry at home by hand (at work with a sheeter does not count). And since the weather is still cool, I decided to make inverted puff pastry (where the butter layer starts on the outside instead). Four folds later (single, double, single, double), I had more puff dough than Eric and I should ever consume alone. Luckily, it freezes nicely and was portioned over the last two weeks into five different products to be shared amongst friends.


The tarte tatin and strawberry-lemon cream mille feuille were victims of my over-zealous oven. My puff dough browned too quickly, leaving it underbaked in the centre, as you can witness in the mille feuille's cross-section. Next time, I will also vent the tarte tatin during baking to lessen the residual cooking juices in order to keep the puff crust crispy, not soggy.

After some temperature regulation issues were resolved, my vol-au-vents baked properly but a few decided to slouch over to one side, much like my top-heavy hyacinths currently blooming in the garden. I think I need to practice shaping and assembling these again to redeem myself.

Finally, no puff pastry project is complete without using up leftover scraps to make palmiers and/or cinnamon straws. These crispy little munchies are so easy and make my frugal heart sing. In fact, I might use up my residual unused puff dough to make these tasty morsels instead. Everything tastes better with cinnamon sugar on it, doesn't it?

Imperfections

This is a short post just to wish you all Happy Valentine's Day. I tried making a roasted beet sorbet sandwich with chocolate sable breton cookie hearts. Although the sorbet went a little wrong, I will stop worrying about it and enjoy their aesthetic value. Let us just say that I prefer my beets savory and alas, this preference was the root of the problem. Maybe I should just call it a granita. Metaphorically speaking, the search for perfection is fruitless anyways and ultimately, I am loved despite all my own flaws. Will you be mine?

Spirit of giving

I used to get very anxious about Christmas gift giving. Finding the perfect gift for everyone on my list became an obsession and I was often guilty of being at the mall on December 24th at 4 o'clock in the afternoon. During my university years, however, I had an epiphany and began making identical gifts for each friend in order to make my life easier. One year, it was pillows. Another year, mosaic picture frames. My favourite was the year I made personal sized pavlovas for everyone.


The tradition fell dormant for about a decade because medical school and residency made me lazy in terms of creativity and friendships. Nowadays, I am appreciative of my opportunities to foster both and take much joy from my annual edible gift production.


On the menu this year were two items, mini-Florentine cookies and milk chocolate passionfruit caramel truffles. The Florentines are very cute, about the size of a Toonie, and textured with dark chocolate on the reverse. The truffles turned out slightly different than I had planned, but are nonetheless, exceedingly soft and delicious. The original ganache recipe used white chocolate and was meant to be piping consistency so next time I will need to make it even more firm to make my life easier during the rolling and dipping process. Note to self: buy truffle shells next year.


Since my frugality causes me to only make exactly what I need, when I do have leftovers, I make it a challenge to find a good use for them. For example, having a leftover blob of lime marshmallow (primary use to be revealed at a later date), the next logical step was to make a small marshmallow Christmas tree, decorated with leftover Halloween candy, leftover fondant daisy/star, and leftover silver dragées. Consider it a gift to you as a small token of thanks for your interest in my little blog in 2008. Happy Holidays!

Da bombe

It has been the coldest June in recorded history here in Vancouver. My basil has died and one impatiens has mysteriously disintegrated from the copious rain. The cat has had three hairballs in the last four days and so I need to buy more carpet cleaner. Despite (or perhaps because of) these dreary events, my palate was craving vibrant summer flavours. You might remember that in my last post, I mentioned that I had forgotten to use the strawberry-lime coulis that I had made to serve with my sister's birthday cake.


In my typical frugal fashion, this coulis was quickly transformed into strawberry-lime sorbet after adding some more zest and simple syrup. Nothing could taste more like summer to me. An amaretto almond nougatine ice parfait was paired with the sorbet, for textural interest, and assembled into a frozen bombe. Underneath the dome, lime sablé breton cookie rounds gave support and buttery crispness.


I am usually painfully modest but I have to say that my frozen stawberry-lime-nougatine bombe truly is da bomb. If only it could be enjoyed barefoot on the patio with iced tea instead of indoors wearing fleece and winter socks. Summer solstice is in two days so perhaps I will get my wish soon.

Feeling nutty

I recently started making my own granola as an accompaniment to my daily breakfast helping of yogurt. As a result, having extra flaked almonds and dried berries in the pantry led me to crave florentines, those nutty crispy cookies that I must admit, were unknown to me until my foray into pastry. Traditionally, florentines are thin and lacy caramelized discs, with one side combed in chocolate, served at Christmas. I figure May is close enough and in Paris, I did buy a Flexipan half-sheet for florentines that was begging to be used.


Two deviations from the classic florentine were made. First, the florentine mix was baked onto discs of pâte sucrée and second, a texture sheet was used to pattern the dark chocolate rather than a comb. Many recipes I found use candied citrus peel or candied fruit but since I had a leftover bag of mixed dried cherries, strawberries, cranberries and cape gooseberries from Famous Foods , they went into my florentines.


Of course, Eric and I could not possibly (or rather, should not definitely) eat all two dozen florentines that came from the oven. Unless my product yield is purposely small, most pastry items produced in my kitchen end up being distributed to friends and family and are strategically chosen to use up leftover mise en place. I am blessed to have the time and resources to bake and create at home, a weekly activity that brings me great joy and fulfillment. Photographing and writing about it on this little blog is an extension of the creative process that ultimately benefits me and my need for a creative outlet, regardless of whether anyone actually reads my blog! But to those who do visit my blog regularly even though it is not a traditional food blog and sometimes resembles more of a online career counselling diary, thank you for sharing this journey with me.

Heartfelt

Valentine's Day was celebrated early at our home this year and involved the obligatory silly cards and a beautiful floral bouquet filled with freesias, tulips, anenomes, and gerber daisies. I have to admit that I love receiving flowers. If I was a billionaire, I would be one of those women who would have a personal florist and a fresh bouquet everyday. In the meantime, the occasional heartfelt bouquet is just fine.


The most heartfelt cookie that I can imagine is the Linzer cookie. Such a perfect pairing of raspberry and hazelnut makes this traditional Austrian cookie an undeniable candidate for Most Romantic Cookie (is there such a list?), especially when shaped as a heart. The glassy ruby jam centre contrasts with the snowy white edges and the hint of clove complements the toasty hazelnut flavour. Somehow heart-shaped chocolate chip cookies or shortbread just don't compare.


From a technical standpoint, Linzer cookies are a bit fussy, to be honest. To achieve a perfectly glassy finish, the raspberry jam should definitely be strained to remove seeds. After dusting the top cookie with icing sugar, any unnecessary handling will lead to fingerprints in that lovely white layer. Spooning just the correct amount of jam into the centre while avoiding rogue drips elsewhere requires patience. Such effort must mean true love for whom Linzer cookies are made!

Good fortune

My childhood memories of Chinese New Year mainly involve things other than food. Dressing up to perform Chinese folk dancing, bringing plum blossoms to my grandparents in Chinatown, and receiving a shiny quarter in a lai-see are a few examples. Although food is a very central part of Chinese culture, I never developed a palate for the sweet traditional delicacies abundant during Chinese New Year celebrations. Nothing in that round lacquer box ever tasted good to me and no matter how hard I tried, I could never crack open those darned melon seeds. Instead, I headed straight for my savoury favourites, pan-fried lo baak gou (turnip cake) and any dumpling in sight.


I found a recipe for chocolate fortune cookies in Pichet Ong's cookbook which is basically just a simple tuile batter with added cocoa powder. Tuiles are very thin flat cookies, made from stenciling batter onto a baking sheet, which are baked and then quickly shaped while hot immediately out of the oven. Because I do not yet possess asbestos fingers like some fellow bakers out there, my fortune cookie shaping success rate was below 50% initially. Fortunately, a pair of latex gloves and perserverance helped produce 20 cookies which passed quality control.


Eric brought home some lovely Ataulfo mangos which prompted me to make an old favourite, mango pudding. Who can resist the creamy silken golden goodness? Not me. Instead of evaporated milk, my recipe from pastry school uses sour cream and heavy cream which gives it added richness. And isn't Chinese New Year all about richness, prosperity, and luck? Wishing you all good health and good fortune in the Year of the Rat...Gung Hay Fat Choy!

Boo!

Happy Halloween!

Getting over humps

Madeleines are hard to resist. These shell-shaped cakey cookies are best enjoyed with a cup of tea, as Marcel Proust did, and if possible, in Paris. The next best thing is baking them yourself and trying not to eat them all before your husband comes home. Although traditionalists may cringe, I used my silicone molds with no complaints. My only disappointment was that I could not achieve the distinctive hump which protrudes from the non-shell madeleine underside. In my post-baking research, I discovered that Alain Ducasse bakes his madeleines first at 410 degrees Fahrenheit until the edges have risen but the centre remains sunken, at which time the oven is shut off as the hump forms over 2-3 minutes. The oven is then reset to 375 degrees Fahrenheit until the madeleines are done. Let the experimentation begin.

Meanwhile, September is frighteningly close and will mark one year since I officially entered the pastry domain. Over the past year, I have learned the meaning of wanting to go to work in the morning and loving what I do. It was always this elusive feeling which I never understood but intensely craved. I have also slowly learned not to be defined by my work, which was a trap I fell into many years ago. Although I still have mild intermittent angst surrounding my decision to leave ophthalmology (especially when my medical and pastry worlds collide), there is no question that I am a more well-adjusted person today than I have ever been.

Sesame seeds and cannelés

With two weeks of true pastry employment under my belt (or apron), I am happy to be back at Ganache. The environment is familiar and friendly and the work is challenging. Receiving a genuine paycheck again has been satisfying; however, the reality is that food industry wages are, in general, meagre. Even at the Pan Pacific, Chef Ted facetiously said after learning about my job offer at Ganache, "the pay here is peanuts, Ganache must be sesame seeds". Obviously, financial gain is not my primary objective, otherwise high-volume cataract surgery would be my calling, not pastry! It is pyschologically gratifying to be paid to do something that I love and of which I am proud.


Meanwhile, besides macarons, I have also been making cannelés de Bordeaux at home which are Eric's favourites. Traditionally made in beeswax lined copper molds, these fluted caramelized cakes are ideally eaten on the day they are baked in order to savour their crunchy exterior before entering their soft custardy vanilla and rum centres. The origin of the cannelé is filled with mystique; nuns from the convent of Annonciades in Bordeaux or perhaps, an artisan guild of "canauliers" may be credited with its creation. Regardless, they are very addictive and very easy to make using the silicone molds which I purchased in France.

Edible souvenirs: financiers

I have a new favourite cookie, the financier. According to Dorie Greenspan, author of Paris Sweets: Great Desserts from the City's Best Pastry Shops, these rich almond cookies were created for 19th century Parisian stock brokers and baked to resemble bars of gold. They are so flavourful because of beurre noisette, sweet butter that is cooked until essentially burnt, deep brown and nutty. You can see those lovely dark flecks baked into the cookie.

Unlike my past shopping habits which would have focussed on shoes, and perhaps sweaters, my souvenir purchases from France consisted entirely of cookbooks, pastry supplies and a few culinary ingredients. In the neighbourhood around Les Halles, a concentration of food equipment and supply stores exists and undoubtedly, I could have spent a small fortune there. Because luggage space was at a premium, my purchases were limited to items which I knew were either hard to find or much cheaper than in Canada, such as silicone molds for financiers, madeleines, and cannelés.

My practicum is going well despite my usual anxieties regarding new surroundings. The most challenging aspect has been trying to fit in to an all-male crew which is an eclectic mix of strong personalities. Even though the girls were vastly outnumbered during my Ophthalmology residency, the gender difference in the pastry kitchen has been more pronounced and from what I have heard and read, my experience is not unique within the food industry. Luckily, with a relaxed attitude and some self-deprecating humour, I am starting to feel more grounded. I have even received a new nickname "Dr. Chocolate", a combination of my old and new professions.