Cake mysteries..

Banana Chocolate and Pecan Cake


What is it with me and cake these days? I go years without making one, and suddenly here I am talking about my second cake in less than 3 weeks. I made this on Canada Day not for any particular reason except that I felt like baking. I had all the ingredients at hand and G was this close to throwing out the blackened bananas that had been sitting on the counter. Forever.

But circumstances conspired against this poor little cake and the following day it still sat there, fully intact. Not a crumb had touched either of our lips.
By day 2, there was no choice but to give half of it away and put the rest of it (minus a slice) in the freezer.
Sad, I know. That is no way to treat such a sweet and snuggly looking cake.

I have to say, I liked it just fine, but in my life I've come to the conclusion that "liking something just fine" is not really what I'm aiming for.

I told a good friend how the cake turned out and I think I used the word "meh". I liked the idea of putting a chocolatey, nutty layer in the middle of the batter, and I will use that technique again, but the recipe itself was not quite up to snuff.

Then things got crazy (relatively speaking) when I received a phone call that the cake, the other half that I had given away, was getting rave reviews.

What's a girl to make of that? Logically, I get it--it has all the right ingredients, and there's chocolate not only on top of it but, hold onto your hats, even in the middle of it.
And it looks really good right? I mean, I do like the way it looks all bumpy and lumpy and crumbly. It's like a banana bread/ coffee cake hybrid or something and if that doesn't sound like a winning combination then I don't know what does.


I could snuggle up with it..

So I'm just going to have to leave this one with you guys. Sometimes you make something that you think is just ok only to find out that someone else thinks it's fab. And when you're unlucky, which we all know does happen, you make something you think is to die for only to discover you're the only one who thinks so.
And that latter scenario really sucks.
I'm glad it worked out in my favour this time.


**********
The recipe for Banana Chocolate Walnut Cake comes from Gourmet magazine, February 2008, and is posted on Epicurious.

I followed the recipe exactly except that I substituted pecans for walnuts only because that is what I had in my cupboard.

Beer and Chocolate. You just can't go wrong.

Chocolate Guinness Cake by Tish Boyle

I have had this recipe bookmarked since..
Well since forever.
I finally got to it this past weekend and let me tell you: what with that Guinness in there it was pretty fun to make.
And to serve.
The general discussion around the table went something like this:
"Chocolate and Guinness?"
"As in the beer?"
"In a cake?"

And there was me, proud as a peacock, pretending like I make unique and fabulous cakes all the time.
(In an alternate reality, that one where I have my own private jet, I actually do make fabulous cakes all the time)

The cake was moist and flavourful, with just a hint of cinnamon, and the best part of all was that it wasn't overly sweet. Admittedly, we all decided that it shouldn't be eaten solo--it needs ice cream or even some crème anglaise alongside in order to make it shine. It would be kind of like making a really fabulous yellow cake but eating it just plain. It's still a great cake, but it's even better with some icing, right?
Maybe even a little caramel sauce would have done the trick on this one.

In any case, the cake was a hit and the leftovers were safely left behind at my brother's....
Damn.
Why do I always do that?



Chocolate Guinness Cake. Those nubbins in there are pecans..


Click here for the recipe for Chocolate Guinness Cake

*I used Valrhona cocoa powder in this recipe
*and yes I will make this cake again

More cookies. Chocolatey ones.

Chocolate Crinkle Cookies

There was no road trip this time to justify the baking of cookies, but there was a barbecue. I expected to wake up the morning of with some energy--a grocery list of stuff and ideas in my head of what I was going to bring.
But alas, that was not the case. Instead I woke up feeling like I just wanted a slow and easy morning and a hot cup of coffee to go with it. A trip to the grocery store was the last thing I was in the mood for.
Thank god for a well stocked pantry.
I showed up at that barbecue with a salad made of fregola sarda (Italian couscous) and some Chocolate Crinkle Cookies.

I don't bake as often as some do, so I'm always a little wary to try out a new recipe when I'm intending to actually feed other people with it. But these did not disappoint in the least.
The batter worried me at first because it felt much drier than what I'm used to. It became something like damp sand and I expect that if you overmix the batter the cookies will come out drier and crumblier. By some stroke of luck I managed to get it right and they turned out moist and almost fudgy. That part surprised me since the recipe calls only for cocoa powder*, no actual chocolate. They were reminiscent of a brownie, without the sometimes aching sweetness that comes with a brownie.

In any case, it's definitely a recipe I'm going to make again.
Barbecue or no barbecue.



Wishing I had taken home some of the leftovers


Chocolate Crinkle Cookies from Williams-Sonoma

*I used Valrhona cocoa powder which is some fine, fine stuff.

A road trip and the easiest cookies ever

Flourless peanut butter cookies

G and I are heading to Montreal this afternoon and there's nothing I like more than a road trip.
It's about a 6 hour drive from Toronto to Montreal---not so long that you dread it, but long enough to justify packing some road trip food.
I've stocked up on water, apples, junk food (I won't pretend otherwise) and some Flourless Peanut Butter cookies. The recipe calls for the addition of chocolate chips, but as you can tell I opted to leave them out.
Just this time though.
Because I love me some peanut butter and chocolate.
And let me tell you that I have never put together a batch of cookies so quickly and with such little mess to clean up afterwards. Five simple ingredients (6 with the chocolate chips) and you're good to go.
So satisfying.
They're peanutty without being overly rich and they're perfectly moist despite the complete lack of butter.
It's like magic.


So, I've got cookies in hand, the GPS is in it's place on the dashboard and the Ipod is fully loaded. I'm ready to hit the road.

See you in a few days.



***********
Flourless Peanut Butter and Chocolate Chip cookies from Epicurious
If you've got a perfect peanut butter cookie recipe already, that's great. But I am always happy to find recipes that give good results for minimal effort. This is the kind of recipe you keep on hand in case of emergency. Sometimes an impending road trip (or a cookie craving) just doesn't want to wait for the butter to come to room temperature.
If you know what I mean.

Cakes and boxes.

The cake before, looking very unglamorous. The cake after, looking only slightly less so.

So let's get this part out of the way first: I am officially done with my detox. It was 21 days of virtuous eating with G counting down the days until I could join him for a beer at the local pub again. But I did finish just in time for his birthday because well, I'm not cruel. There can be no teetotalling on the man's birthday. And boy it was some night-- a blur of drinks, food and music, with one of our guests passed out on the couch in a sitting up position with his wine glass gripped firmly in his hand. We could not even pry it from his fingers.
The sign of a good night.

The most frustrating part of the evening was this damn birthday cake that seemed to take more than a week to put together. I tested recipes that just seemed to keep failing until finally out of desperation I settled on a plain old yellow cake with a buttery vanilla frosting. I stacked it 3 layers high which was a bit show-offy, but I was hoping that would divert attention from the little butter nubbins that were visible in the icing. But after a few drinks this cake earned great reviews --probably more than it really deserved. The fact is, I am a complete amateur when it comes to cakes. G, in the past, has been forced to blow out his birthday candles on bakery bought cakes.
Poor fella.
So hard done by, right?

In other news, our shipment from the UK finally arrived yesterday.
Yesterday!
After 10 long weeks!
The first thing I did once I managed to find the right box, was unpack the tea pot, and my Mariage Frères teas and got to work on having a cuppa.
And oh it was good.
So our apartment is again drowned in boxes and it feels a bit strange. All these things from our life in Europe suddenly here, in Toronto. I like it. It doesn't feel so much like we left the adventure behind anymore. It's part of our everyday life now, albeit in small ways. And strangely, getting all our stuff back makes it feel like we are finally really here. We've got a full apartment and it's time to settle in.
Let this be the last of the cardboard boxes for a long, long time.
I mean it.

Ispahan jam makes it all taste so good

Greek yogurt topped with Ispahan Jam and smothered in fruit

Cindy's recent ode to her Christine Ferber jam reminded me that I had promised to tell you about the Ispahan jam I bought on my last trip to Paris in July. If you had read about the first time I tried the famous Ispahan dessert, you would know that I was more than a bit disappointed. Despite that, something about the combination of rose, raspberry and lychee fruit stuck with me. So not long after that I decided to try Pierre Hermé's version.
And oh. It was good.
Since then I get a little excited when faced with any dish containing rosewater. (Moro's rosewater and cardamom ice cream is the stuff of my dreams).

A close friend of mine and I agree on most things when it comes to food, but my love for rosewater is the one thing where our palates seem to differ. In fact, just the mere mention of it and she breaks out into some rather amusing facial contortions. I'm starting to think it's like cilantro, you either love it or you hate it. And have you ever noticed that those who don't like cilantro seem really passionate about hating it? Is there no one who is just kind of on the fence about it?

So anyway, in July when I was in Paris I decided to buy a jar of Christine Ferber's (made for Hermé) ispahan jam to take back home with me. People, I could kick myself for never having tried it before. The jam has a rich, vibrant colour, and its 3 main flavours meld perfectly, none of them overpowering the other. You rosewater haters are probably scrunching up your noses right now, but you are just going to have to pipe down for a minute.

It has a somewhat runny (as far as jam goes) consistency which makes it perfect for adding to yogurt which is how I've been indulging in it lately. And now that it's berry season I can't resist smothering the whole thing with strawberries, raspberries, blackberries and yes, even bananas.

You might think I was a bit heavy handed with the fruit but it just tastes so darn good. Thank goodness Paris is only a short train ride away because I'm getting awfully close to the bottom of that jar.


****
You can get this jam at the Pierre Hermé shops in Paris.

Sick, and a bit grumpy, but still baking.

Sick as a dog but I did manage to bake these..

This has been the suckiest week in the history of sucky weeks. What started out as a simple sore throat has turned into a nasty, nasty cold. And because my parents always taught me to share, G is now afflicted as well.

I can't remember the last time he and I have been laid up sick at the same time. Our living room is currently littered with mugs, kleenex, and reading materials, with just enough space left for 2 pyjama-clad grumps.
Luckily, G seems to have developed a rather comical cough and I find myself breaking out in laughter every time he does it, which is about oh, every 2 minutes or so.
I know, this could be a sign that I'm taking too much cough medicine, but sometimes a girl needs to make her own fun, right? (and when did cough medicine start tasting so good?)

Needless to say, our weekend does not look promising. But we do have a good arsenal of movies in our apartment. It may just be a fight over feel-good chick flicks or movies in which many things are detonated and/or killed.

Pass the kleenex, it's going to be a long couple of days..



------------------------
The Muffins

The recipe for Banana-Macadamia Nut Muffins is from Epicurious. I only had pecans on hand so that is what I used. They clearly haven't cured our colds, but they sure tasted good. And sometimes, that's as much as you can hope for.

Green Tea Truffles from Sadaharu Aoki

Truffes ivoires au mâcha - Green tea, white chocolate ruffles from Sadaharu Aoki


I don't know if it's dedication or insanity that stopped me mid-truffle so I could take a picture. Is it a good thing or a bad thing that my bite marks have been captured forever and posted on my blog? Perhaps there is some dentist somewhere thinking to him or herself: "Hmm, I see a slight misalignment of the lower left lateral."

In any case, I said I would tell you about the truffles so here I am. And oy. They were good.
I bought these at Sadaharu Aoki, along with a few choice macarons while I was in Paris. I have this thing for green tea flavoured what-nots. These little bundles had a nice powdery outside, and a creamy/ganachy green tea filling enveloped in a thin layer of white chocolate. I would definitely buy these again but maybe one of my kind friends in Paris will see fit to send me some if I don't get back there anytime soon.

Also, there is something kind of girly about eating truffles that just makes you feel like someone should be pouring you champagne and admiring your shoes. In the case of this final truffle, I was wearing a pair of socks, with a glass of water at hand, and no one else was in the room. Not quite glamorous but it certainly didn't make the truffle taste any less divine.
I miss them already.
Thank god for the picture.


Patisserie Sadaharu Aoki
56 boulevard de Port Royal
Paris, 75005

Two girls, a bottle of wine and a box of macarons..

You know what happened..
I'm still recovering.

And now I'm back..

Matcha green tea chocolate with black and white sesame seeds

After 5 days in Paris I need to recover a little bit. The wine, the food, the speaking French. It's hard work people.

I wasn't sure what to expect about going back. I had lived there for a year and a half and I wasn't sure if going back was going to make me a bit sad.
I mean, I wasn't going there as a tourist, I was going back to a place that I called home for 18 months, a place where I still have friends. Good friends.
And well, it's Paris for heaven's sake.

But when I got there, it kind of felt as though I'd never left. I sat in the back of the taxi on my way to my friend's house and everything looked the same, familiar. It still felt like my Paris.

I did all the things I intended--the Salon des Saveurs , a falafel at L'As du Falafel, a stop at Mariage Frères for some new tea. We had a homecooked mexican feast one night with one too many margaritas, and a schlep out in the rain in our heels another night for a fabulous dinner at Spring.

But the most perfect of all was spending one rainy day in my pj's on my friend's couch with endless cups of coffee, chatting about nothing in particular, in an apartment full of windows and a fabulous view of Paris from all directions.

My suitcase was a bit heavier when I left of course. I added three new teas to my overflowing collection, a bottle each of pistachio oil, pine nut oil and pumpkin seed oil, a jar of sundried cherry tomato paste from Italy, a bar of Sadaharu Aoki matcha green tea chocolate and some fresh Bouteillan olives from Provence.

It was a good trip.
I have to admit, I did feel a bit sad to leave, but Paris and I, we still have our thing.
And I'll be back there in July so I can't really complain, right?


Stuff and more stuff that I love..



*********************
Mille et Une Huiles
-these oils taste so true to their flavours they knock my socks off.

Spring
28, rue de la Tour d'Auvergne
75009 PARIS
T 01 45 96 05 72
m° Notre-Dame de Lorette

Red Velvet Cupcakes at Hummingbird Bakery

The cupcake did not survive..

So it seems the red velvet cake is making a bit of a comeback. I am fully supportive of comebacks, even if I think the Spice Girls should leave well enough alone.
But whatever.

The Hummingbird Bakery on Portobello Road in London has me giggling like a schoolgirl. What with the icing and the sprinkles and the sugar, well, let's just say "hee hee hee hee hee."

According to the wee sign posted by the mammoth red velvet cake that was sitting on display, it is one of their most popular items. Well I certainly wasn't about to order some lame vanilla cupcake and risk having someone whispering behind me "that is so summer 2006", so I jumped right on that red velvet bandwagon and joined the ranks of the cupcake fashionista. Thankfully, you can order by the slice, or opt for the very portable cupcake version. For an extra 10p they'll even put it in a chinese takeaway style box for you.
The hipness just doesn't end. It was 10p well spent because I'm a sucker for any packaging that ups the cute factor.

I'll get right down to it. I liked my little cupcake. It was pretty and moist and yummy and even though I'd never had any dessert of the red velvet variety before, I felt nostalgic with the first bite. I just wanted to don a frilly apron and get my Betty Crocker on.
I didn't though.
But I totally wanted to.

Hummingbird Bakery
133 Portobello Road
Notting Hill
London W11 2DY
020 7229 6446

Zuni's Orange-Currant Scones

Zuni Orange-Currant Scones. Not shy on the butter.

When I returned from my recent trip to Canada I expected that I would bring some things back with me. But in the end, the treasures that ended up in my suitcase weren't entirely what I had anticipated. I thought I would have a suitcase full of Triscuits and Smartfood, two things that I covet and miss on a regular basis.
But these suddenly were bumped in priority and were replaced with a strong desire for a big tub of all natural smooth peanut butter, and Bandaid brand bandaids.

Because, first of all, it's not easy to find all-natural peanut butter here, and when you do it's rather pricey. And secondly, will someone please tell me why French bandaids don't stick? Is my North American skin of such a different constitution that the chemical properties of the French bandaid glue don't adhere to me?

Then came the cookbooks. Our bags were already heavy so I knew I had to be selective. Without question, Zuni made the cut. I dug that poor old book out of a dusty box and now it sits, happily, in the full sunshine of my little French kitchen.

So last weekend, as I was pondering Zisou and the speed at which his head travels, I decided I would start the day with Zuni's Orange-Currant Scones.
The fact that the recipe instructions had a very low word count intrigued me right from the start.

To make a short story even shorter, I give you this raving review:
1. easy to make.
2. oh so very good.

With a scant 1/2 cup of sugar, they have the perfect hint of sweetness. The inside is moist (hello, half a pound of butter) and the top has a perfect crumbly texture.
You could change the Orange-Currant combo to anything really. And because they are low on the sweet factor, you could easily make them savoury, by leaving out the sugar and using say, Lemon Zest and Rosemary for example. Or put some cheese on the top before you bake them.
Oy.

And here's where I'm beginning to think that perhaps the last 11 months I've been in France is starting to influence me.
The recipe says you should get 12 scones out of the batter. I tried it with the first half of the batter, and the scones were oversized. No, oversized is what Michele after 6 months in Paris would call them. At 11 months in Paris, I may even go so far as to use the word grotesquely oversized. So I Frenchified them, and made them much, much smaller. Smaller=cuter=more scones.

Without further ado, I present to you:

Orange-Currant Scones from the Zuni Café Cookbook

3 cups all purpose flour (13.5 oz)
Scant 1/2 cup sugar
4 tsp baking powder
1/8 tsp salt
1/2 pound cold butter (approx 226g or 2 sticks for North Americans)
1/2 cup dried currants
1 tb orange zest
1 large egg
1/2 cup whole milk (I used 1% and still loved them)

Oven: 350F.
Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Two if you have room in your oven for two.
Combine the dry ingredients in a large bowl and mix well.
Cut in butter until it is the size of small peas then add the currants and orange zest.

Whisk the egg and milk together. Add to the dry ingredients and mix and fold until the dough masses and the flour is absorbed.

Divide the dough in two and shape each into a ball. Pat each one into a 6 to 7 inch circle on a lightly floured surface. Roll to approximately 1 inch thick and cut into whatever size you want. The cookbook suggests 6 per circle, (cut like you would a round pizza). This method will produce very large scones. I cut mine into little squares and I probably got 3 times as many scones as the recipe indicates.

Bake until firm to the touch and slightly golden, about 25 to 30 minutes.

Been thinking about my doorbell..

Lemon Poppy Seed Cookies

Saturday started out in such a wholesome way. The sun was shining-- I took a leisurely trip to the store to get some sugar, and had a nice, slow morning of baking.
But Saturday ended with some high impact margaritas, three bottles of wine, some cognac, and a cat running around in circles doing its best to catch its own tail.
But thankfully, I had the cookies to prove that I had been somewhat productive that day. An evening of debauchery is allowed when you've spent the earlier hours baking sweet cookies for your friends, isn't it?
The problem is that Sunday morning I awoke with little room for any thoughts in my head. Every bit of my brainpower was consumed with the same 2 lines of a song that went over and over in my mind. It's a song that I normally like, but which this morning felt rather like a jackhammer working its way at my temples.

"I been thinkin' about my doorbell-- when you gonna ring it, when you gonna ring it?"

There are times when I think about my doorbell too, but this morning I definitely didn't want to be thinking about thinking about my doorbell.

So there I sat, curled up on the couch with that song in my head, staring blankly at random things in my living room, while G was finally pulling himself up to a sitting position in bed.
And, as often happens when a couple finds themselves in different rooms, curiosity inevitably overtakes one of you and leaves you wondering what the other person is doing in the other room that may be more exciting than what you are currently doing. So the following conversation occurred from across the hallway:

G: Whatcha doin?
M: Starin' at stuff. Whatchu doin'?
G: Sittin' up.

And so Sunday morning began.
I'm still not sure who was having more fun.



Cookie Talk
I ripped this recipe out of a Martha Stewart Living Magazine ages ago and have carried it around with me ever since. I have made these cookies a couple of times now and I like the subtle combination of lemon and poppy seeds, neither overwhelms the other. They're good tea time cookies if you're into that sort of thing.
They seemed to go over well last night too, with good reviews all around. And that was so not tea time.

Lemon Poppy Seed Cookies
(adapted from a recipe found in Martha Stewart Living Magazine)

1/4 cup fresh lemon juice (2 to 3 lemons)
3.5 teaspoons lemon zest
8 ounces unsalted butter
2 cups all-purpose flour (for French bakers, I used type 55 flour)
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1.5 cups sugar
1 large egg
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
1 tablespoon poppy seeds, plus more for sprinkling

Preheat oven to 375F or 190C.
Bring lemon juice to a simmer in a saucepan until it is reduced by about half. Add half the butter until melted. Remove from heat.

Sift flour, baking powder and salt together in a bowl.

Cream remaining butter and 1 cup of sugar together.
Add egg and lemon/butter mixture. Mix with an electric beater until pale, only a couple of minutes.
Add vanilla and 2 teaspoons of the zest.
Add flour and poppy seeds. ***see important note below regarding the flour!

Stir together remaining 1/2 cup of sugar and lemon zest in a separate bowl.
Roll your cookie dough into small balls and toss or roll them gently in the lemon sugar.
Place on a non-stick baking sheet (or use parchment paper) a couple of inches apart and press down with the flat end of a glass dipped in the sugar mixture so it doesn't stick. (I didn't press down as much as I could have, it's entirely up to you how flat you want them)
Add a pinch of poppy seeds to the top of each. ( I press these down a bit too so they don't just roll off)
Martha recommends they are baked between 10 and 11 minutes, until browned around the edges. I like to undercook them a little so they are super soft and chewy, so I only baked mine for about 9 minutes.
Can be stored in an airtight container for up to a week.


Important note:
*I have only made this recipe with German and French flour. Each time I have had to add about 5 heaping tablespoons of extra flour because the dough was too sticky. But with that correction the cookies turn out wonderfully. Well I like them anyway..

The time for cookies is now.

Chocolate Chunk and Toffee Cookies

I made these and I ate some. And now there are 40 of them left, tempting me every minute of the day. Calling to me from the kitchen in a soft, chocolatey whisper.

I won't deny that I have opened that tin of cookies many times. I have put my nose all the way in and sucked all of that cookie smell right out of there with a deep, long breath. I hold it in for as long as I can and then finally walk away, until the next urge to smell them hits me.
Just eat one, you might be thinking.
Oh, but I have. One, and then some.
The time for cookies has arrived, several times.
What's a girl to do with 40 delicious cookies?
I'll tell you what.
Pack them up, take them to a friend's house and wave goodbye.
Parting is such sweet sorrow....
Until you get back home, find a new recipe, and start all over again.




These Chocolate Chunk and Toffee Cookies are from Williams-Sonoma.
I used a Lindt chocolate bar that is filled with crunchy caramel bits as my toffee portion of the recipe. Since they are basically just a chocolate chip cookie with a bit of flair, you can use anything you want to act as the toffee portion. The cookies came out moist and chewy, with brown-sugary sweetness. Just the way a chocolate chip cookie should be. The recipe made 48 cookies, based on the size that I made them.
For those in France, I used type 55 flour.



Tags
Cookies
Chocolate Chunk Cookies

Sleeping late and sneaky tricks

Sweet Almond Financiers

"If you bake it, he will come."

These are words of infinite wisdom, although I'm not sure that anyone of infinite wisdom has actually said those words. Except for me. Just now. I've got wisdom, sure, but perhaps of the more finite variety.
But on a lazy sunday morning when you want to get your significant other to get out of bed there are 2 ways to do it which fosters joy and contentment in the household.
1. Bacon
2. Baking

No meat eating man will sleep through the smell of bacon frying nor will he be able to resist something sweet puffing up in the oven.

So perhaps now I have just revealed why I cook bacon for breakfast every Saturday morning.
I will admit that this act alone has improved my relationship with G in a way that cannot be measured. The man gets his bacon, and I get an early riser for a partner.
You may think: "What's the big deal? Sleep in a little."

If only it were that easy. I am officially allergic to sleeping in. Except for that one summer when I was twelve and I slept in every day until 2pm, stayed in my pajamas the rest of the afternoon reading the Sweet Valley High series and then happily climbed back into bed later that same night. That was the most forgettable summer I have ever spent.

This past weekend, long after the bacon was consumed there was napping. Plan A had already been executed. It was completely illogical to fry up more bacon. There was nothing to be done but resort to Plan B. The secret weapon: sugar, flour and eggs.

I decided to try this recipe for Sweet Almond Financiers. It had only 5 ingredients, and miracle of miracles, all 5 of them were in my kitchen at that very moment.
My first taste of financiers has only been in the last few months since living in Paris, so this was a big moment for me. I was assimilating, doing what the locals do (or what I imagine they do at least), and hoping the neighbours would be impressed by the sweet scent of homemade financiers drifting out into the hallway. Oh, I mean, I was hoping to wake up my boyfriend from his nap. I was only baking because I had to. I don't really enjoy it.
Right.


Sometimes I play with my food

So I baked. And then popped one swiftly into my mouth. It was moist and chewy with a subtle almond flavour, not overly sweet, with crispy, caramelized edges and a flaky top.
Unfortunately they were nothing like the financiers that I have tasted here which are more like mini muffin/sponge cake type things.
But I liked these alot. They were easy to make and got G up from the couch with a yawn, a stretch and a "What are you making?"
Mission accomplished.

The financiers consist of flour, icing sugar, almond flour (aka finely ground almonds), eggs and butter. This Williams-Sonoma recipe suggests using a 6-well silicon fluted tart mould. I used a lightly buttered non-stick, non-fluted, mini tart/muffin pan, which made 12 financiers.

Glamour shot

Arabesque macaron, apricoty and good

Hermé macaron hand-modelling at its finest. The 007-style leather gloves are a nice touch. Good wrist and palm angles, and an impressive 3 finger grasp of the upper macaron.
The grasp, in particular, demonstrates a steadfast commitment to ensuring the macaron does not end up on the sidewalk during the photo shoot.
Excellent work.
David, forget chocolate, I see a new career in your future.

I ate this cookie..

almond & pistachio cookie from a random bakery in Paris


.. and then I found out that pretty doesn't always mean good.

Nice work on the checkerboard pattern though.
And extra points for the big old chocolate nubbin in the middle.
Next time, I think I'll just ask for the nubbin.

Grilled Apples with Crème Anglaise

There are some things in life that you never forget. Your first kiss. Your first pet. Your first apartment. The first time you went to a party and drank too much Blue Curacao and came home late only to find your parents were still up and you hoped and prayed that they wouldn't notice. But your red eyes and your blue smurf tongue gave you away, and you were grounded.

Ah, memories.

There's the time you made your first Thanksgiving dinner. You cooked that bird with the giblet bag still inside but your dad helped you sneak it out before anyone noticed. It was a job well done, and you were so proud of yourself.

And then there's the first time you made your own crème anglaise.
That memory is so fresh in your mind it seems like it was yesterday.
Oh right, it was yesterday.
Why had I never made this before? Blame it on my previous lack of a sweet tooth.
But who knew crème anglaise was so easy to make? And tasty, don't forget tasty.



Grilled Apples with Crème Anglaise

Once I finished my first batch I couldn't stop myself. Like a woman possessed I experimented with various flavour combinations. I tried it plain with just vanilla, then adding a splash of Cognac and finally another batch with a splash of Port. I imagined infusing the cream (prior to adding it to the eggs) with rosemary, lavender, cinnamon, orange zest, and even my new Mariage Frères tea. There is going to be a alot of crème anglaise in my future.

My efforts were inspired by the recipe for Grilled Apples with Bourbon Crème Anglaise by Williams-Sonoma. It was a simple and very satisfying dessert that I will definitely make again.

Notes

The Crème Anglaise recipes I reviewed always contained eggs, sugar, vanilla and milk or cream.
I tried both the Williams-Sonoma recipe for crème anglaise as listed above, which uses both milk and cream, as well as Martha's recipe, which uses just milk. I preferred the cream version, as it had a thicker and richer consistency than Martha's. Sorry Martha.

After comparing these two recipes, I realized that Martha's is much easier to make so if you want to, you could just substitute cream for the milk in her recipe. And do whatever you want to flavour it.

I used a real vanilla bean instead of vanilla extract.

I also received a good tip from a friend of mine in Paris who says that the longer you cook the mixture, the thicker it will get. It also thickens further once it is chilled. You gotta love friends with good tips.

Dear Ladurée

Dear Ladurée,

It hurts me to write you this letter. Things started out so well between us. It was a gorgeous morning; the sun was shining and I was walking leisurely down the Champs Elysées with you as my destination. You looked so handsome from the outside, and you teased me with those little macaron trees and those pretty boxes in the window.


Ladurée on the Champs Elysées

You wowed me even more once I stepped inside, you looked rich and elegant, but there was something so warm and cozy about you. I wanted to snuggle right up and nuzzle your neck Ladurée, you were that irresistible. Your hostess led us up the stairs to a non-smoking room and it was filled with well-dressed Frenchmen. Ladurée, I thought, this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Sure, they all left shortly after we arrived, but we didn't take it personally.


Just us in the empty room, after all the men left

Your menu arrived and my eyes grew wide at the temptations you were offering. But the truth was that we were there to eat the macarons, and not one was listed on the breakfast menu.
But don't fret! Our tall and lovely server accomodated our early morning whim and gave us an assortment of 4 to share between us, just as I'm sure you would have wanted her to do. And because we knew we would love it so, we ordered an Ispahan, a decadent dessert layered with raspberries and litchees and infused with the flavour of rose petals.

My thé à la vanille arrived and it tasted so nice. Though I will admit Ladurée that I was a little hurt by your decision to charge me €6.20 for the tea. But what is a few euros between friends, right?

And then Ladurée, something went wrong and I started to feel the heartwrenching sting of betrayal.

We tried your macarons. First lemon, then violet, then chocolate, and finally pistachio. I was confused. Where were the oohs, and why was there not one single aah? Where was that desire to eat in slow motion to savour every crumb? My heart sank. Something wasn't right, and I was sure it must have been me. Because you are you, and I, well I am just me. Never mind that my breakfast companion was feeling the same heartbreak as I was.


mini macarons

Our server then brought out your lovely Ispahan and it was as pretty as pretty could be. I knew everything would be right between us again. And I'm sorry if for a brief second I thought that the shade of pink you chose reminded me of that Barbie corvette I used to have when I was young. Because truly, it did look perfect, and the real rose petal was such a lovely and delicate touch.


Ispahan

And I'm sorry that I had to take my knife and cut through it's beauty, but we were sharing, it had to be done. But I don't know if you will be proud or ashamed that your beloved Ispahan fought me with every crumb of its being. It resisted, crumbling dry and lifeless into pieces, as though it was telling us that it had reached its prime of life a day, maybe two, before.
I hate to say it Ladurée, but we left most of that Ispahan in a crumbled heap on the plate.

So Ladurée, my darling, you can see why I am confused. It was our first date and I was sure that by the end of it I would declare my undying love for you. But instead, I returned home from our rendez-vous with nothing but a broken heart and a belly full of disappointment.

But I promise you, I will give you another chance. Because you make for some great eye candy and the handsome ones always get a second chance, right?

Ladurée
75 avenue des Champs Elysées
75008, Paris
(see website for other Paris locations)

Maison du Chocolat.. because I haven't had any chocolate in a whole week.

Brésilien from Maison du Chocolat, with my fingerprint
on the side because I am clumsy.

Is it a good thing or a bad thing when you discover that there is a Maison du Chocolat within a 15 minute walk from your apartment? Does it mean anything when you find yourself trudging through the pouring rain, your hair all a-frizz, your pants soaking wet and dragging on the pavement, just to get yourself to said chocolate mecca? It can only be assumed that it means you are there to get your chocolate on, as they say. And so I did.


A girl's best friend. A box wrapped with a bow, and filled with chocolate.

The chocolate at Maison du Chocolat is, to state the obvious, lovely. But what I found rather distracting upon first entering the shop were the saleswomen. Firstly because there was at least 5 of them bustling about this tiny store, and secondly, because they were all identically dressed in brown tailored suits with fine orange piping along the lapels. Think Charlie's Angels meets Brownies. (You know, before you're old enough to be a Girl Scout they stick you in brown and orange and call you a Brownie?). At first it caught me off guard. My brain was distracted from the chocolate with the following series of thoughts:

"Ew. Brownie flashback." Followed by:
"Wait, that's kind of cool." And then:
"Hmm. Now I'm not sure. Is it retro-chic or is it just plain ugly?" Head tilted to help me think.
"Whoever designed those is either crazy or a genius. " Momentary pause, with furrowed brow.
"I'm stumped... Oh, are those truffles?" Chocolate wins again.


Marroni from Maison du Chocolat

It need not be said that the chocolate here is expensive, although the single serving cakes are a reasonable indulgence. You can buy yourself a little slice of magic for under 5 euros, depending on what you select. I choose the Brésilien- chocolate and coffee, and the Marroni- chocolate and chestnut at €4.60 each.
To share with my boyfriend, of course.
You do believe me, don't you?

The Optional Reading (Or me trying to describe how it tasted)

The Brésilien had a nice coffee flavour, not overwhelming, just perfect for me. The texture of the cake was dense and moist, luscious even. The cake itself struck me as being much less sweet than I expected. And then I realized how this works. The cake is a little light on the sweetness, while the ganache borders on too sweet. If each bite you take includes both, then Houston, we have harmony. I did like this one, and would buy it again. But of course I intend to make the rounds through a few more in their line before I start repeating. It's hard work, I know.

The Marroni did not excite me. The chestnut filling tasted as though it was doused in rum, and it became the dominant flavour. Unfortunately the ingredients are not listed on their website, so I can't confirm the inclusion of rum. (Nor could I confirm the spelling of the names) The chestnut layer was also a bit airier than the rest, which seemed not to work as nicely as the Brésilien did, which was fairly consistent in density throughout. I realize some people may like the inclusion of a fluffier layer, but I generally do not. The chocolate part of it was good, and the ganache as well, but I would not buy this one again.

These cakes are not nearly as big as they may appear in the pictures. Seen in person some might actually consider them small but in fact they are perfectly sized considering how rich and decadent they are.

A dreamy monday morning at the Salon du Chocolat..

Jean-Paul Hévin Macaron

Today was a big day for me. I tasted my first macaron. Ever. Many people talk about them, and generally rave about them, and the uber-talented even make their own, at home, in their free time. Since moving to Paris, I see them everywhere. It seems every bakery on every street corner makes their own version. I've been tempted, it's true, but something has always held me back. I knew that I didn't want just any macaron, I wanted one of the best.

Well, today was my lucky day.

This morning I headed off to meet some new friends at the Salon du Chocolat, a large chocolate trade show held every October in Paris. There I was, at the Jean-Paul Hévin booth, staring at what was judged this past June as the best macaron in Paris.

Now how could I pass that up? I watched as they carefully wrapped it up for me. And yes, dear friends, I waited until I could get home and take a picture before even taking a single bite. But as soon as my teeth sank into it, I had an uncontrollable urge to run back to the kitchen and take another picture for your viewing and drooling pleasure. Perhaps this is rather unsophisticated of me to say, but the inside tasted like the best chocolate brownie I have ever had. And however they get that crunchy bit on the top is beyond me, but it was heavenly. I want more..



The Salon du Chocolat was exciting to say the least. By the end of it, I was on quite a chocolate high; unnaturally giddy and carrying many more things than I realized I had purchased. When you're faced with some of the best chocolatiers in the world, you just have to let loose and sample everything that is offered to you.


Madame Setsuko Chocolatiers in action

A stop at Madame Setsuko found us gaping in amazement at the fine details being piped on each individual chocolate. A sample of their green tea ganache found its way into my mouth (how does that always happen?) and I was instantly in love. Although, I will say that it was a good thing we had arrived early, because by noon, you could barely get yourself near their booth at all to watch them in action.

Madame Setsuko Green Tea Ganache

Even the sandwiches contained chocolate. I feasted on the Foie Gras sandwich with Fig and Chocolate Chutney and it was delicious. The sweetness of the chutney was a nice compliment to the Foie Gras.


Foie gras and chocolate sandwiches

In the end, I came home with a lovely pile of stuff.

From Maison du Chocolat: a tablette of 100% cocoa, and chocolate covered almonds.
From Jean-Paul Hévin: a chocolate macaron and a tablette of milk chocolate with caramel
From Baillardran: two caneles, traditional and chocolate
From Madame Setsuko: green tea ganaches.
Oh and somehow a sample packet of Nestle Quik hot chocolate made its way into my bag too...

I will expand on some of these treasures as soon as my hands stop shaking from this sugar rush. I need to go lie down now..

Dark Chocolate Truffles with Fleur de Sel..

I would love to wax poetic about Chocolate Truffles, but really, what do I know about truffles except that they taste good? And anyway, all I really want to do is call my parents and my friends and tell them that I actually made my own. And gee, if I may say so, they look pretty darn charming, don't they? Gold sticker for me. Even if I have to give it to myself, it stills feels good.

Yesterday afternoon you would have found me in my kitchen, covered in chocolate (relatively speaking) making mad dashes to my computer to get various email opinions at each step along the way. Ok, maybe I overreacted a little but there was alot of chocolate at stake here.

I had made it through the recipe without incident, but in the end I didn't like the flavour. I had used good quality dark chocolate and cocoa powder, but to me these little darlings needed some serious sweetening up. I think my tastebuds are still adjusting to bitter chocolate. So, there was nothing left to do but to engage in some 'adaptive correction techniques'. Or "recipe fiddling" as it may be more commonly referred to. Something which I am generally nervous about when it comes to trying a recipe for the first time. But sometimes you've got to use some moxy to get the job done.

A mad dash back to the shop for some semisweet, and I was back in business. More melting, some truffle dunking and, in an unusual moment of whimsy, a sprinkling of Fleur de Sel (sea salt crystals). A few taste tests later, and I was not only done, but I was quite happy. I think I may have even turned the music up and danced a wee celebratory jig in my kitchen.



The base chocolate truffle recipe that I used was from Nigel Slater's Real Food which consists of only 3 ingredients. Chocolate, whipping cream and cocoa powder. I then took my own liberties and coated them with melted semisweet chocolate (52% cocoa) and sprinkled a bit of fleur de sel on top for the finishing touch. The salt adds a wonderful contrast. They wouldn't be half as good without it.

Dark Chocolate Truffles with Fleur de Sel (adapted from Nigel's Chocolate Truffles)
450g fine chocolate (I used 70% cocoa)
275ml whipping cream
cocoa powder for dusting (I used Van Houton)
approximately 400 g semisweet chocolate
fleur de sel

Chop the chocolate finely into gravel sized bits. If they are of equal size they will melt better.

Put the chopped chocolate in a warm heat proof bowl. Bring the cream to the boil in a small pan. Just as it reaches the boiling point, remove from the heat and pour slowly into the chocolate, beating gently with a wooden spoon.

The chocolate should all melt into a thick, glossy, dark-brown cream. If there are lumps left then you will have to put the bowl over a pan of hot, almost simmering water until they melt. Take care not to overheat it or it will separate and curdle.

Place the basin of chocolate in the fridge to stiffen. Depending on the temperature inside your fridge, the mixture will need about an hour to thicken. (It should not set solid although if it does, just melt it over hot water and refrigerate again). If you want thick, solid, luxurious truffles, leave mix as is. If you want softer, lighter ones then beat the mix with an electric whisk for a minute or so until it starts to change colour. It will become paler and fill with air. Overwhipping will curdle the truffle mixture.

Using two teaspoons, scoop out balls of truffle and drop them into the cocoa powder. The size is a matter of choice. Roll the truffles in the cocoa, then leave them in a cool place for an hour to set.

My addition
I tempered* some semisweet (52% cocoa) chocolate and dunked each truffle in it and placed it on a baking sheet covered in parchment (or wax paper is fine). I sprinkled each with a pinch of Fleur de Sel (sea salt crystals) and left them to cool. And voilà.

And here I am still grinning with self-satisfaction. So, who wants to come over and eat them all up with me?

*(Ok truthfully I just melted in a double boiler, stirred it with a wooden spoon as it melted, then let it cool a bit and then melted and stirred it some more. It seems to have worked. The chocolate may not be as shiny as it could be but I'm satisfied for my first effort..)

Salted butter caramels with a twist...

Caramels aux Algues au Beurre Salé

The heat is on in my apartment, my winter coat is making its debut in Paris, and hot bubble baths are becoming a nightly indulgence just so I can warm my feet up. But I'm not complaining. I love my winter coat and I do some of my best reading in a hot bubble bath. And aside from that, I can't help but smile at the thought that I've just witnessed a changing of the seasons in Paris. From the hot days of summer to the cool, overcast days of fall, it's really starting to sink in that I live here. And yes, I like it. I like it alot. And here is but one more reason why.

Just yesterday I spotted a bag of salted butter caramels. Yes, it's true, my first bag ever. Molly would be pleased with my find, I'm sure, as she has declared these one of her favourite indulgences.

But what I discovered when I returned home was that I hadn't just purchased a bag of salted butter caramels. In fact, I was now the proud and slightly confused owner of Salted Butter Caramels with Algae. (Caramels aux Algues au Beurre Salé)

Algae?

Yes, algae. The ingredient list read as follows:
Sugar. Glucose syrup. Milk powder. Salted butter. Salt. Seaweed. Nori.



I'm sure you are asking, as I did, who would ever think to put seaweed and nori in a caramel?
Well it seems the French would, especially those who live by the sea.

These caramels are made by La Maison D'Armorine which is based out of Quiberon, a small town in the province of Brittany (known as Bretagne in French), right on the western coast of France. Quiberon is known for its fishing and in particular its sardines, and was declared a "Ville Gourmande" in 1999.

Sel de Guérande is the salt that is found in the salted butter used in the caramels. It is a name I have seen frequently since moving to Paris. I now know that this popular brand of salt, is completely natural, unrefined, unwashed seasalt containing no additives. It is low in sodium and high in mineral content. The 2000 hectares of Guérande saltworks in Brittany are said to be a supreme example of some of the most ecologically sound land development.

I declare these salt and algae spiked caramels delicious. They were wonderfully chewy, sweet but not overly so, and the seaweed added a subtle earthy contrast to the sweetness. I think I will now be on a mission to scout the city for different makers of salted caramels to see how they compare.

Just don't ask me how many I have left. I'd probably blush.

For the love of chocolate..

Patrick Roger milk chocolate almond bar

I was recently tagged for a second meme by Beth from Zen Foodism, which asks us to select our most wine friendly meal of the last 30 days. My general theory is that there is no meal that is not in some way enhanced by a glass of wine. Yes, even if its hot dogs with twinkies on the side. But for the sake of the meme, I put my thinking cap on and one thing in particular kept coming to mind.

My friends, it is no secret I am a girl with rather simple tastes. And I beg to differ with anyone who tries to convince me that a chocolate bar is not a meal in itself. If its big and delicious, and you eat the whole thing in one shot, well, it kind of is.

And I will not argue that this Patrick Roger milk chocolate almond bar could not be enjoyed entirely on its own. But, if you're going to indulge, why not go all the way.

This past week, I made my way into the Patrick Roger boutique for my first time, with a man who definitely knows his chocolate. When he tells you that this is some of his favourite chocolate, you don't take that information lightly. You pull out your wallet and you get down to the business of selecting. As if the recommendation isn't enough, the packaging is very reminiscent of the Tiffany's blue, a colour that is hard for any girl to resist.

I carried that chocolate around with me all afternoon, pretending not to notice it but truthfully, I could think of nothing else. When I got home, I told myself I would open it just enough to take some pictures. I carefully unwrapped it and one glimpse at those perfectly shaped almonds and I was done for. There was no holding back, nor was there even time to open a bottle of wine. But had I had the foresight, and the willpower, I would have. I guess I'll just have to go back and get another one and stop for some wine along the way.



Patrick Roger
108 boulevard St-Germain
75006 Paris

Marshmallows revisited..

Gimauves à l'ancienne, Old-fashioned marshmallows

If there is one thing that I associate with the many campfires of my childhood, it is roasting marshmallows. My brother and I would search the surrounding woods for just the right stick, long enough to keep ourselves comfortably back from the flames, and straight enough to appeal to our need to have a more perfect stick than the other. If he happened to find a good one while I was still searching, it was not unusual for me to sulk.

I was a fussy child when it came to my marshmallows, I wanted the big ones and I wanted them to be white. When it came to roasting, I aimed for an even browning. This required a slow and steady rotation, with a certain level of concentration that I often lacked. If I became tired or distracted, it would, to my horror, erupt in flames. There was no hiding my disappointment, as I passed the rejected marshmallow to my brother, who would gobble it up eagerly. I would then have to thread a new one onto my stick and begin the process all over again. Inevitably, he would end up with twice as many in his belly by the end of the night as I did. More sulking would ensue.

It was a strange day indeed when I discovered "old-fashioned" marshmallows at La Grande Epicerie de Paris, a fantastic grocery store to which I have, by now, made many trips. Each time I go there are new discoveries to be made. Some of them thrill, while others bore. And some just refuse to stop nagging at my curiosity.

For weeks, I could not stop thinking about these marshmallows. At 7 euros for a bag of 20, I had, upon first seeing them, decided that I would never buy them. As much as their pretty pastel colours attracted my attention, I was not foolish enough to spend that kind of money on something so.. well, childish.. But each time I went to the store, those darn colours drew me in again. There I could be found, standing in front of the display, trying to convince myself that my disdain over the price was stronger than my desire to see what all the fuss was about. Each time, I would reach for the package, give it a slight squeeze, turn it over, until I would finally replace it to its spot on the shelf. I even emailed Tara to see what she thought of this strange new thing. How absurd! I wrote her. Who would you feed them to? Surely not your children at 7 euros a bag?

Still, I couldn't get them out of my head. I hadn't had a marshmallow in years, nor had I any cravings for marshmallows. So what was it?
I don't know.
But whatever it was, it was too powerful to resist.

One day I could fight it no longer. So, on my last trip, there I was at the checkout counter, with my fancy marshmallows in hand, wondering if the checkout man was going to laugh at me.
Ridiculous purchase? Maybe.
But I bet you're curious now too, aren't you?



Opening the bag was an exciting moment. Yes, I am easily amused. The fruity smell that drifted up to my nose told me we were off to a great start. I reached in and pulled them all out one by one, and admired their many colours. Each colour has its own flavour: lemon, mandarin, apricot, lime, orange flower, strawberry, raspberry, myrtle, coconut, vanilla and violet. Myrtle? I know, that's what I said too. (update: I have since discovered that myrtille, as it was listed on the label, means blueberry, not myrtle as I erroneously assumed. French is my second language after all.. )

The marshmallows are spongy, but with more fluff than the dense ones that I remember from my childhood. (Not to give the impression that I am a marshmallow connaisseur, if there is even such a thing). The outside texture is wrinkly, with a light dusting of cornflour on the outside, which gives a nice dry contrast to the moist sponge inside. The flavour is evident as soon as the marshmallow hits your tongue and intensifies once you bite into it, though the flavours are still subtle, and not overwhelming. I could feel the sugar dissolve on my tongue immediately, and it felt like some strange marshmallow/cotton candy hybrid. The coconut flavoured one is surprisingly at the top of my list so far. There are still about 15 more to go, but I will have to take it slow. I'm still getting over my chocolate overload from last week.

For such a seemingly frivolous purchase, I can finally conclude that I feel completely justified in this indulgence. Discovering a childhood food elevated to a new level, well, it's just cool. If only I had some licorice sticks, some cream soda, and a few of my favourite girl friends, I could have the best tea party ever.



L'Atelier des Douceurs
Le Pont-Quartier Tartary
07200 Aubenas

Available at La Grande Epicerie de Paris

A little wine, a lot of chocolate.. WBW13

Bourgogne Passetoutgrains and Chocolate Cheesecake
bites with a Chocolate Rosemary Ganache

When Clotilde announced the theme for this month's Wine Blogging Wednesday, my immediate thought was that there was no way I could participate. I moved to Paris 4 weeks ago and was dismayed to find that my apartment contained a stovetop, but no oven. No oven? That's right. No oven. That meant no more roasted chicken, no more roasted tomatoes, no crostini, no homemade pizzas and definitely no baking. I was ready to throw in the towel on food blogging.

As the WBW due date drew nearer I had resigned myself to the fact that I was just going to have to sit back and watch everybody else having all the fun. And then there was an email. Not just any email, but an email sent to a girl who knows what she's talking about when it comes to food, both savoury and sweet. I lamented, I complained. She read my tales of woe, but she knew that all was not lost just because I was ovenless.
And so began my no-bake-cheesecake experiment.

I browsed a number of recipes. A bit of tweaking, a dash of invention, (something I'm rarely comfortable with when it comes to desserts) and I ended up with these chocolatey little bundles. Chocolate cheesecake on top of a cookie base, covered with a chocolate rosemary ganache. And with G. away this week, there was nobody here to enjoy them but me. And perhaps that was a good thing. Because enjoy them I did.
The rosemary flavour in the ganache added a subtle and surprising mellowness. Next time I will steep the rosemary longer in the cream to allow the flavour to come through just a bit more.


Chocolate Cheesecake Bites with a Chocolate Rosemary Ganache

I popped the cork on my new wine, and there I was, chocolate and wine at hand, ready for an evening spent curled up on the couch with a good book.



The Wine
It is said that when pairing wine with chocolate, it is important to consider the cocoa content of the chocolate. The stronger the chocolate, the more full bodied the wine should be. A bittersweet chocolate would be complimented by a hearty Zinfandel. A Pinot Noir or Merlot is a good match for milk chocolates. At 52% cocoa content, the chocolate I chose fell into the semi-sweet category. It was not bitter enough for a Zinfandel, so I decided to try something from the Bourgogne region. A general rule is that the wine should be sweeter than the chocolate, so I thought perhaps I was playing it safe. Bourgogne Passetoutgrains are made with 2/3rds Gamay grapes, and only 1/3rd Pinot Noir grapes, although I did read that its possible that this ratio is not always adhered to. My particular bottle however, did indicate that this was in fact the ratio used. The Bourgogne Passetoutgrains appellation is relatively small so it is not as easy to find these wines as it is to find those of larger appellations.
Gamay grapes often have cherry and/or strawberry notes and are said to be good easy to drink table wines. It had a nice clear colour and a noticeable acidity which cut through the sweet richness of my dessert. It was an acceptable match with my chocolate, but not a particularly satisfying one.
I think I would try this wine again in another context to see how it fares. The back label recommends the wine with grilled meats and soft cheeses, such as Brie.


Bourgogne Passetoutgrains

Bourgogne Passetoutgrains
Maison Chandesais
Bourgogne, France
Grapes: 2/3rds Gamay, 1/3rd Pinot Noir
Mis en Bouteille
12% vol.
€3.15 for 375 mL bottle or approximately €6.00 for a 750ml bottle.

The Cheesecake
The cheesecake was an experiment of mine. I did not follow a specific recipe and only wanted to make as much as I could eat. A whole cake just wouldn't do when there was only me to eat it.
You can use your favourite cheesecake recipe to recreate the same thing.

100 g of cream cheese
1 heaping tablespoon of sugar
1 tablespoon of crème fraiche
approximately 3 oz of good quality chocolate, melted
Mix the first 3 ingredients together and then mix in the chocolate.

It turned out to be quite dense, almost like a thick mousse. I only added a tablespoon of sugar to 100g of cream cheese because I knew the chocolate would sweeten the mix. If you prefer something less dense, use whipped cream instead of the crème fraiche. Adjust amounts to your taste.

I scooped the mix onto the little cookies, smoothed it out as best I could, and after a cooling period in the refrigerator, covered each of them with the ganache.

Here is a link to Martha's No bake Chocolate Crust Cheesecake that you can use as a reference for an alternative cheesecake mixture, and also for a crust if you prefer that to using cookies.

The Chocolate Rosemary Ganache from www.mslo.com
Please note, that this amount of ganache is was way more than I needed, so keep that in mind when making your own. The instructions below are the method I used, click on link above to see Martha's full instructions.

Makes 1.5 cups
9 oz semisweet or bittersweet chocolate, chopped
1 cup heavy cream
2 tablespoons fresh rosemary needles

Place chocolate in a medium heat-proof bowl. Warm cream with rosemary in small saucepan over low heat. Bring just to a boil. Strain cream over chocolate. Stir to melt all chocolate. Pour ganache over your cream cheese bites. Let cool in fridge or at room temperature.

The Cookies used for the base
Mère Poulard, Les Chocolatines du Mont Saint Michel
I would definitely buy these cookies again to use as my cheesecake base, but they were also equally delicious plain, straight out of the box. They were a thin cookie, the bottom of them showed that they were generously laced with tiny chocolate chips. The cookies had a very small crumb, crisp to bite into, but the rest was melt-in-your mouth. The only thing that comes to mind that is somewhat comparable in texture to the crumb of these cookies are the wafers on an oreo cookie.
I was happy to find that mine stayed crisp after a night in the refrigerator covered in my cream cheese mixture. Choosing these ones for my base had been a stroke of pure luck.


The Cookie Base

Sweet sweet honey.. SHF #10

Grilled Honey Glazed Stone Fruit with Honeyed Mascarpone


I feel as though summer has truly arrived when stone fruits begin to appear at the local markets. Ripe and fragrant peaches, plums and nectarines, just begging you to lean forward, take a bite and let the juice run freely out. There is something very satisfying about the drippy mess it leaves behind.

I could not resist the stone fruits that I noticed at the market earlier in the week. I left gleefully with a paper bag filled with white peaches, yellow plums, and oversized nectarines, one of which was gobbled up as soon as I got home. There has been many a time in the last few days where I could be found leaning over the sink, devouring yet another stone fruit.

From the moment I heard that this month’s Sugar High Friday’s theme was honey, I knew I couldn’t miss it. I’ve been known to be a bit uptight about my sugar intake, but honey is an entirely different story. It is natural in its sweetness, it offers vitamins and minerals, and even has antiseptic and antibacterial properties. Is there anything better? It finds its way into my meals on a daily basis, through banana smoothies, homemade granola or yogurt. And with my new bounty of fruit on hand, I couldn’t resist putting the two together.

I really enjoyed this light and simple dessert. The fruit takes the stage and it didn’t leave me feeling heavy and tired, which is the last thing I want in this hot and humid weather.
Thanks to Nic at BakingSheet for hosting SHF this month.




Grilled Honey Glazed Stone Fruit with Honeyed Mascarpone

Take some stone fruits. Cut them in half and remove the pit. (I used white peaches and yellow plums)
In a pan over medium heat, melt 1 teaspoon of butter. Add 1 heaping teaspoon of honey. (if you are doing alot of fruit, just double or triple the recipe as needed.)
When it starts to bubble, add your stone fruit and toss to coat, ensuring the cut side of the fruit is well coated.
Remove the fruit and place them cut side down on a heated grill or grill pan. Grill until softened and showing grill marks.
Serve cut side up, with a dollop of honeyed mascarpone cream.

Honeyed Mascarpone
Start with a few tablespoons of mascarpone (depending on how much you want to eat) and add plain yogurt, just a little at a time until you get the desired consistency. Add a teaspoon of honey or to taste.
This can also be done with cream instead of the yogurt.

Recipe Note: in future I will make extra honey glaze and drizzle it over the fruit after it is plated.

sweet, sweet love..

Mohn Quark Stollen

I have found the loaf of my dreams. I spotted it one day in the window at my neighbourhood bakery. I could tell it was looking back at me. I smiled. I batted my eye lashes. I blushed. But I went on my way, feeling shy. I don’t usually approach strange loaves. But every day, I kept seeing it there, as fresh and memorable as the day before. I could never tear my eyes away. Until finally, one morning, it was no longer in its usual place. The window seemed somehow empty, even though it was still overflowing with other sweet delights. Crowds still gathered around, pointing and gasping at the wonder that was displayed before them. They did not know how much better it looked when that loaf had been there too.

But now that it was gone, I knew that it was safe for me to go in. It was a hot day, my throat was dry, and I needed a bottle of water. I walked in, took one from the fridge and stood at the counter waiting to pay. My eyes wandered down to the glass display in front of me. There it was. The hair on my arms stood on end. I leaned closer to get a better look. It was perfect and beautiful. Before I knew what was happening the words spilled out of my mouth: One loaf of Mohn Quark Stollen please (in German of course). Mohn and Quark were both unfamiliar words to me. But I didn’t care.

I walked home as fast as I could and carefully unwrapped it. I brought it out to the living room to show my boyfriend. I didn't say anything. I just stood there with the loaf. I think I heard him gasp.
"What is it?" he asked. His eyes were wide and fixated on its beauty.
“I don’t know.” I said. I laid it gently on the coffee table. We stood staring at it for a moment.
Finally, I reached for my computer. I looked up the word Mohn. I looked up the word Quark. What I had purchased was a poppy seed cake with soured/curdled milk turned into a cottage cheese like substance.

“It’s a poppy seed cake.” I told him. The rest could be left unsaid.

We both took a slice, reaching to catch the little crumbs and poppy seeds that fell from our hands.
It was everything I had hoped it would be, and more. It was cake, but it was not cakey. It was a loaf, but it was not loafy. It was sugary but not too sweet. The quark, a beautiful addition, softened the crunch of the poppy seeds. There was a welcome hint of lemon. We savoured every bite. It was most definitely, the loaf of my dreams.

The sweet temptations of Heidelberg

The sun is shining this morning in Heidelberg. Though we've had our fair share of rain, it has only served to make the city luscious and green. It is picture perfect, as they say. My morning, as usual, started with a trip to the farmer's market where I somewhat successfully chatted up the vendors, despite my choppy German skills. A big smile can get you further than you think. I was told by my favourite produce vendor that tomorrow, May 1st, is a day that the German's celebrate by going for a long walk and enjoying a beer outdoors. No arguments here. I'm in Germany, and I will do as the Germans do. Maybe I will even start celebrating today. I am completely loyal to this man and his produce now because he usually slips me some free vegetables if he thinks that I have not selected a full range of vitamins. Last week he gave me some carrots, even though I told him I already had carrots at home. I guess he just wanted to be sure that I would have sufficient intake of Vitamin A. Today I discovered some cherry tomatoes in the bottom of my bag. I love hidden treasures, and my parents will be pleased that he is looking out for my health.

I was feeling adventurous, so I wandered over to the cheese vendor and asked him to surprise me. I wanted something creamy and mild. He selected something for me and wrapped it up with a smile. I asked him what it was called and much to my dismay the answer was about 10 minutes longer than I had expected. It was far beyond my German comprehension and so I left with no idea what type of cheese I had just purchased. I blinked alot as he talked. Then gave a big smile and a loud "Ja!" and "Danke!" and went merrily on my way. Of course I had to try the cheese as soon as I got home with a little chunk of fresh baguette and I have to say that it was fantastic. It was as soft as butter, mild with a slight tangy afterbite. It tasted barnyard fresh, that's the only way I can describe it. But I mean that in the best possible way. However, I am dismayed that I will not know how to ask for it next week, or ever again. I might have to do alot of pointing if I am at least able to recognize it when I see it. But there are many white and creamy cheeses around so I'm not feeling very hopeful.

On my way home from the market I finally succumbed to the sweet temptations that have taunted me from the window at Cafe Gundel. (pictured above) This cafe/bakery lies right at the end of my street and I pass by it every morning. I am not the only one who stares longingly at the window, nor am I the only one who has stopped to take a picture. It is a sight to behold.

It has taken all my willpower until now to go in there merely for a loaf of bread, as I have been afraid that I once I caved into the sweet stuff I would be lost forever. I do my best to avert my eyes once I walk in through the door, keeping my head up, and repeating to myself: “Don't look down, keep staring at the bread, keep staring at the bread.” I say it over and over to myself until I am safely back outside with only a loaf or two in my hands. It has worked for me so far, but today I did not fight it. It's going to be May 1st tomorrow, and the man told me I should celebrate. So, celebrate I will. There is nothing wrong with starting a day early. The picture below shows the treasures that I brought home with me from Cafe Gundel. A big chocolate ball of mystery called a Schlosskugeln and a Schwarz/Weiss Bretzel. (a black and white pretzel) Life is surely good in Heidelberg.

Custard confessions

lemon custard cake, worst picture ever

I had a Martha moment this weekend and it wasn’t a positive one. I doubted her. I shook my head and furrowed my brow, wondering how I had managed to pick this substandard recipe in her online collection. I had held such high hopes for her Lemon Custard Cakes. But alas, there was a distinct lack of cakiness, and an abundance of soupiness. It was nothing more than lemon custard soup with a fluffy bit floating on top. Yes, a small tasty floaty bit that taunted me, letting me know that this is what the rest of the custard had aspired to. Through gritted teeth I asked Martha how she could have let me down this way.

Mind you, the flavour was perfect, but that’s beside the point, as it really only added salt to the wound. And I was still rather annoyed, even after my boyfriend and I ate the yummy, I mean runny, soup (in record time too). I mean, after all, it’s the principle of the thing, right?

In any case, after a period of basking in disappointment, my belly full of lemon custard soup, I soon moved to a period of reflective self-analysis. Yes, this is normal for me. And I came to a very startling realization.

Oh my, it might have been my fault.

It’s much harder on the self-esteem to blame oneself for one’s culinary failures than it is to blame a recipe, the oven, or a sub standard ingredient. Even though that’s usually what the problem is. But I knew I had to step up to the plate and get real, as they say. After all, this was Martha that I was dealing with. And I’m just Michele.

So, with the utmost determination, I made the recipe again. And this time, I did it Martha’s way. Yes, I hate to admit it, but I had taken some creative (read impatient) license with her recipe. And what I ended up with the second time around was pure lemony heaven.

These are the hard lessons I had to learn.

1. Don’t underestimate the importance of soft white peaks. Droopy, runny lumps are not the same thing. Just because you’re bored of standing over the eggs doesn’t mean you can just stop whenever you want.

2. A batter meant for 6 dainty little custard cups may not cook the same in 3 much larger soup bowls. And don’t be mad at Martha just because you don’t have 6 dainty little custard cups.

3. Just because it’s really brown on the top after only 10 minutes, it doesn’t mean it’s done. When you saw the floaty bit floating you should have figured out that it wasn’t quite ready. You didn’t call it a floaty bit for nothing. The second time around I lowered the oven rack. No misleading early browning.

I was forced to admit that my impatience and my ego had gotten the better of me. And almost won. Almost. But really, that custard was gooood. And Martha? My humble apologies for doubting you.

Jam it, that's good...

strawberry and blood orange jam

When I think of making jam it makes my brain hurt. Disturbing images dance through my head: me standing over the stove with a 10 gallon pot, bushels of strawberries waiting to be washed and hulled, and rows of jars waiting to be sterilized. (For some reason when I imagine this I also see myself in a frilly apron. I’m not sure why, but why fight it). And in the end? 15 jars of jam with no one to give them to and nowhere to store them. As soon as I hear mention of those things I turn my head in the opposite direction, scrunch my nose up like I’ve just eaten a bad pistachio, and flick my hand in such a way as to indicate that I will have nothing to do with any of it.

And there are 2 reasons why jam making elicits such a dramatic response from me.

1. the thought of all that makes me tired and I am instantly overcome by a great and wide mouthed yawn.
2. I like to do things the easy way.

Yes, in my happy little world, easy = good. I know that jam purists may disagree with me. And I am certainly not suggesting that they change their methods. I’m only hoping to introduce the world of fresh jam to those who subscribe to my aforementioned equation.

And truthfully, if I had to do it any other way I’d never do it at all. And that would be oh so very tragic. So here it is, my own recipe. And it puts a big smile on my jam smeared face.

Strawberry and Blood Orange Jam

3 cups chopped strawberries (Washed and stems removed)
The juice of one small blood orange (or a regular orange, but the blood orange intensifies the jam into a deep red colour)
½ cup of sugar
One gelatin sheet

Put the first 3 ingredients in a saucepan and bring to a simmer over medium high heat. Then reduce heat to medium for about 40 minutes. Stirring occassionally.
Near the end of cooking time, soak one gelatin sheet in cold water for approximately 5 minutes. Wring out the excess water with your hands and add it to your fruit mixture. Stir until dissolved (just a few minutes). Let the mixture cool a little then pour it into whatever container you like. (The only thing I had with a lid was a butter dish.)
Refrigerate. You’ll end up with a cup to a cup and a half of jam. I didn’t actually measure it but it fit perfectly in my butter dish, if that’s any indication. It should last up to a month.

And that, my friends, is it. Your own jam. No special tools and lots of time to spare. This recipe makes for very spreadable jam, which is how I like it. But you can add another sheet of gelatin if you so desire, or reduce the amount of juice, or add more sugar.

In fact, you can leave the gelatin out altogether but you will have to reduce your juice to just a tablespoon or two, or it will be way too runny, and won’t really be jam at all. (although it would still probably taste great on vanilla ice cream). I really wanted the orange to make a statement in the jam, so I opted for the gelatin to firm it up.

And also note that the cooking time is variable depending on how much you want your strawberries to break down. If they are still too chunky for you after 40 minutes, cook it longer until its right for you. Or less if you want it chunkier!

The point is, there’s lots of room for experimentation..