A New Take: White Chocolate and Lemon Cream Puffs

It's been a week or two! It feels like so much has happened and then nothing at all. It's rained the last two days, making it hard to get the dogs (or myself) motivated to do much more than want to stretch out on the couch and watch Netflix or a Disney movie. But I still have my chores, I still want to make this house feel alive when Nolan comes home after a 12 hour day. I still check the chickens (we haven't lost one yet!) and do the dishes and sometimes I forget and let the pans soak too long.

Last Wednesday, I went to Philadelphia to see Molly. She was speaking at an event and had the morning to spare; and I, conversely, wanted to see my best friend, Carissa, before she went off to eat afternoon tea in London.  We had a tea tasting with Alexis and then ate at Rooster Soup and Goldie! And I was a happy little clam dropping Molly off at the terminal and not being sick of her! And then it was a 5 hour drive home where I listened to LP and a very poorly narrated Wuthering Heights audiobook on Spotify.

This week also meant some free shit, thanks to Alex, who gave me a hand-me-down Nespresso. Nolan already bought a 70-count sampler and we are slowly going through them already. Very European in this little farm house in Ligonier.

My dad came out to meet the chickens and then we went to a diner. He got a cheeseburger, I got oatmeal. I promise to shoot the chickens soon so everyone can meet them (especially our favorite, whom we named Kelly)--they already have feathers and our blonde one is turning white. It reminds me of when Elsa was a baby and her stomach was spotted and now she is a 50-lb lazy teenage dog who doesn't get out of bed until 10. Then grow up so fast.

Today, I'm going to the Chamber of Commerce in an hour to talk about volunteering in the community and maybe picking up some extra work for baking. Stay tuned, but for now--cream puffs!

I have said before that I am not the best piping person (I've only done it three times I can remember) and I was a little nervous to make these. But, like most things with baking, it's the nerves that make it so satisfying when it's complete. I adapted a Martha Stewart recipe that I was referred to and think they're pretty cute for a first time. Plus, the white chocolate hides the problem areas.

Oh, and of course they're topped with sprinkles for a little nod to my pal, Molly!

White Chocolate and Lemon Cream Puffs

Ingredients:

• 1 cup water
• 8 TB unsalted butter, cubed
• 2 TB white sugar
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
• 4 large eggs
• 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

Directions:

1. In a saucepan, mix together water, butter, sugar, and salt and heat on medium-high heat, stirring occasionally with a wooden spoon
2. When it begins to boil, immediately remove from heat and stir in the flour, and stir vigorously
3. Return to heat and continue stirring for a minute or until a dough forms and pulls away from the saucepan sides
4. Transfer to the bowl of a stand mixer and mix with a paddle attachment for about three minutes or until it begins to cool
5. Mix in each egg, one at a time, and your vanilla and continue mixing for a minute or so until a sticky, but solid, dough forms
6. Transfer to a piping bag

Preparation and Decoration: Preheat oven to 375*F. On 2 parchment or Silpat-covered sheets, pipe our your circles, about 2 inches in diameter. Tap the tops with a wetted finger to flatten slightly. Bake for 25-30 minutes or until puffed and golden. Once done, allow to cool on a rack, poking each with a tooth pick to vent any steam.

When cooled, use a clean piping bag and small tip, fill bag with a jar of lemon curd (or homemade!) and break the bottom of each and pipe in your curd. 

Next, melt 16 oz of white chocolate in a double broiler (or even a microwave) and dip each in. Sprinkle with a bit of sprinkle and allow to cool.

They can be stored for up to 3 days in the fridge!

Madeleines!

I know I've been baking more French desserts lately -- but can you blame me? There's just an inherent romance, for me, when I think of French desserts. Even the simplest ones (and, let's be honest, that's all I'm producing these days) hold unique, delicate shapes and flavors and are somehow so memorable at the same time.

For me, madeleines are the original macaron. A distinct shape, a subtle flavor and a joy to make. We ate the whole lot in 2 days (the dogs occasionally got a bite, too), and always with coffee or tea. Warm and subtle and enigmatic in its own right. I would love to digress about my love of France and the poeticism of these little cakes, but I'll save that for others who have done a much better job at it than me.

So I'll leave it there, take these petits cakes for what they are--an easy, delicious classic that everyone should make at least once. The recipe I provided for this post is directly from Ruby Tandoh's book Crumb (with the addition of vanilla), which I found to be a strong, consistent batter, having made these multiple times through this week.

Honey Madeleines

For this recipe, I used a regular-sized madeleine tin, but you are more than welcome to use a muffin tin! This recipe came from Tandoh's Crumb, with the directions modified slightly.

Ingredients:

1/2 c + 1 TB unsalted butter

3/4 c AP flour

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

1/3 c sugar

2 TB honey

2 large eggs

1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

Directions:

1. Brown butter in a light-bottomed sauce pan and remove from heat. Use 2 TB of that butter to grease your pans
2. Place pan in fridge to stay cool
3. In a mixing bowl, sift together flour and baking powder
4. In a separate bowl, whisk together sugar, honey, eggs, and vanilla vigorously until foamy
5. Add egg mix to flour and stir
6. Fold in remaining browned butter until a batter forms. Allow to rest in fridge for 20 minutes
7. Preheat oven to 400*F while you are wait
8. Fill each tin about 3/4 of the way up the madeleine groove and bake for 8-9 minutes
9. Remove, re-grease and refrigerate pan, and bake off remaining batter

Modification notes: If using a muffin tin, fill only 1/3 of the way up the side of the tin and bake for around 10-12 minutes.

Almond and Cherry Palmiers

Last year for my 25th birthday, Nolan took me to Paris. A month later we began looking for a house to start over. I don't think I fully appreciated either of those two thing--no, in fact, I know I did not. I think it was too hard to look ahead. Too easy to look behind at California and the mistakes we chose to make as two separate people. I took the easy way out; keeping a grudge close to my breast like an ingot that warms with my body heat.

I don't want to be like that anymore. 

We moved into our house in January and I am in silence for the majority of the day. I have a full-time job; working remote requires conference calls, but I choose to stay on mute. I keep the TV off and the dogs bark when the mailman comes and sleep in the sunlight the rest of the day. Because of this, my mind gets to wander.

Because of this, I think about escaping with Nolan again for a week. Getting lost in the archipelago of streetlamps that pain broken sidewalks in shades of yellow light. We talk about going to London this year, but we have a wedding to plan. We talk about going to Iceland and Spain and Mexico again. We do a lot of talking and planning and it's not a quiet house when he comes home.

I made these palmiers as a relic. A promise. A souvenir. An assurance of times to come. We'll be back in France and may spend our honeymoon in Lisbon. It's all up in the air, but I'm excited to see how the lots cast themselves when it all comes back down to earth.

Almond and Cherry Palmiers

Ingredients:

• 1 1/2 cup white sugar, divided
• 1/2 cup sliced almonds
• 1 sheet of puff pastry, thawed
• 1/4 cup dried cherries

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 400* and line a baking sheet with a silicon mat or parchment paper
2. On a work surface, pour out a cup of sugar and your almonds, mix with hands to evenly distribute almonds
3. Press pastry on top of this and roll out until pastry is about an even 12" x 12" square (or as close as you can get)
4. Rub remaining sugar and cherries on top of the pastry
5. Take one side of your pastry and fold to the middle. Do with remaining side
6. Fold one half on top of the other
7. Cut into one-inch slices
8. Place and press slices onto baking sheet
9. Bake for 8 minutes or until edges are golden, turn over and bake an additional six minutes
10. Allow to cool and keep in an airtight container for up to three days (though the high butter content means these dry out quickly!)

Funfetti Gateau Breton with Nordic Ware

Right now, I am watching the snow fall in bed, wrapped in a blanket and sandwiched between two dogs and a boy. We're busy these days, making preparations for a house and a move and a mini vacation next week. We are busy these days, trying to fill the time between this year and the New one. There are parties to go to, people to love, presents to open; and my brother is having his child on the 27th. 

Instead of calling him, I'll probably spend the day watching Westworld and falling asleep.

I'm sure everyone's holidays are like this--somehow lazy and busy all at once. Mine used to not be, but now they are and it is as exotic as it is familiar. When Nordic Ware asked me to try out their Sweet Snowflake Shortbread Pan, I wanted to make a dessert that could impress as much as it could invoke nostalgia; so I made a funfetti gateau breton. You may remember my previous ones (here and here), and you may remember how simple and delicate these French cakes are to make. Something that is sure to ease a bit of the holiday craziness for you this month.

Funfetti Gateau Breton

Ingredients:

• 1 3/4 cup AP flour
• 2 TB cornstarch
• 3/4 cup white sugar
• Pinch of salt
• 3/4 cup unsalted butter, softened
• 6 egg yolks
• 1 TB clear imitation vanilla (a tip from Molly on getting that nostalgic flavor juuuuust right)
• 2 TB rainbow sprinkles

Directions:

1. Prep your Nordic Ware shortbread pan or a 9-inch springform pan with a liberal amount of butter or oil
2. Preheat oven to 375*F
3. In the bowl of a stand mixer, sift together flour, cornstarch, sugar, and salt
4. Add butter until well incorporated; it will be very clumpy
5. Add egg yolks, one at a time. Do not add subsequent yolk until previous is fully mixed into dough
6. Finally, add your vanilla and sprinkles and mix for a few seconds to blend
7. With floured hands, pat into your prepared pan
8. Bake for 15 minutes at 375* and then lower temperature to 350* and bake for an additional 25-30 minutes or until edges are golden brown
9. Allow to cool before removing from pan. Enjoy immediately or store in an airtight container for up to a few days.

A special thanks to Nordic Ware for sponsoring this post. Nordic Ware has been producing quality kitchenware products in their 70 years and are now one of America's most beloved and iconic brands. Today, Nordic Ware manufactures the vast majority of its products in America, at our Minneapolis headquarters, including cookware, bakeware, grillware, microwave, and kitchen gadgets and accessories.For more information or products, check out their website!

Bookends: A Macaron Cake

I danced on a lamppost and smoked a joint on a statue of a snake. I kissed a boy on a stone curb and crammed into the back of a Fiat with four other students. I ate nothing but bread for a week. I thought I was in love with a one-night stand, so I made him tea and milk and lost his number in the morning.  My professor invited me to a roof top party and I got so drunk I sat in a corner, silent, and thought about my uncle’s funeral the next day.

And when fall break hit, I bought a train ticket to Paris. 11 hours, through Lyon. I packed a bag with black t-shirts and a carton of cigarettes. I never made it to Paris, though. There were terror threats in the city that day, so I went to Florence instead. I smoked all the cigarettes in twelve days. I fell in love with every person I saw on the subway home. I got so drunk at the only gay bar I knew about that I ordered two crepes for me and one for my friend who tagged along. I took a shot of vodka from a sweating bottle in the backseat of a cab. I never made it to Paris, but I felt like I was writing a poem during my time in Rome: disconnected, unplanned, high on bummed weed and pills when they were offered. It was a narrative I crafted, harbored in the crawl space of my self-esteem.

It wasn’t so bad, but I wish I had made it to Paris.

Three years later I was unemployed in California. Still hadn’t made it to Paris, though I had promised myself I would when I became a lawyer. I promised myself that every day until I quit law school and couldn’t get a job. I still smoked cigarettes then, and wore a lot of black, but I spent my days on a hammock, thinking about how all my potential was prematurely ejaculated once I graduated high school.

So I fought with my boyfriend about money. About cereal that went stale and if I really needed a lamp next to my bed. About how to raise the dog we bought together in Los Angeles and if love was enough to stay awake in this sleeping relationship much longer.

And in between pretending to learn a language and lying on my resume, I learned to bake. Slowly at first, then gradually I got better.  I watched cooking shows in the morning and stretched a dollar any way I knew how. Egg whites for a meringue cake and then the yolks for a custard. Flour from the dollar store and I’d skip my car payment for a month to buy quality chocolate. I only cooked French food early on, to challenge myself. To prove to myself something. I fucked up a bundt cake pretty bad once and cried about it for an afternoon. When my confidence was so fragile, even that was too much to bear. I didn’t bake for a month after that and I remember I always avoided one recipe in particular: the French sandwich cookie, the macaron.

Since then, I’ve made scones, bundt cakes, and galettes. Cakes, cookies, and ice cream. But never a macaron. Until this week, when I realized how far I’ve come and a thousand of miles in between who I was and who I am now. I don’t wear so much black anymore. I’m writing a new narrative. I use an old Coors Light bottle as an ashtray on my parents’ front porch. I made a macaron cake, pink and tart and nutty because I figured, “Why not?” Because that’s who I am now—someone who isn’t creating identity but poetry. Physical, tangible poetry set between the bookends of an uncle’s death in Rome and a crumbling relationship in California. And who I am now doesn’t say, “No” often, especially when I get the chance to bake or bum a cigarette. 

Macaron Cake with Cherry Buttercream

I am fully aware that this isn't a proper technique and is a more whimsical approach to the French confection. Makes one 6-inch cake.

Ingredients for cake base

• 1 ½ cup almond meal
• 1/3 cup AP flour
• 1 ½ cup confectioner’s sugar
• 4 egg whites
• 1/3 cup sugar
• ½ teaspoon white vinega

Directions for cake base

1. Prep your parchment by drawing your 6-inch circles as your guide for piping. Put parchment on a half sheet
2. Sift together almond meal, flour, and confectioner’s sugar in a large bowl and set aside
3. In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with a whisk attachment, beat the egg whites until they are beyond frothy but not quite solid
4. Begin to add your sugar in a stream with motor still running
5. As you continue to beat, the egg whites should solidify and be a little shiny
6. Add your white vinegar to stabilize the meringue
7. Turn mixer off and add about a half cup of the flour mixture to the meringue mixture. Fold it into the egg whites. When mixed, add remainder of the flour mixture gradually, continuing to fold as you go
8. When fully mixed, put into your piping bag and pipe into your pre-drawn rounds
9. Set out for 30 minutes at room temperature
10. Preheat oven to 300*F
11. Bake for one hour, checking at the 40-minute mark and every ten minutes after until you notice a hard shell that is set
12. While baking, move onto the cherry buttercream
13. Remove from oven and allow to cool completel

Ingredients for the cherry buttercream

• 2 cups cherries, pitted
• Juice and zest of a half lemon
• ½ cup white sugar
• 2 TB unsalted butter, room temperature
• 1 1/2 cup confectioner’s sugar
• 1 TB vanilla
• Pinch of sal

Directions for cherry buttercream

1. In a small saucepan, stir together your lemon zest and juice, cherries, and sugar
2. Boil on medium until juices of the cherry are released and it is reduced by half. You will have a syrupy product
3. Cool completely
4. In a bowl, using either your stand mixer or a hand mixer, beat your butter and confectioner’s sugar together, it will create a thick and dry paste
5. With your mixer still on low, pour a thin stream of syrup into your confectioner’s sugar mixture and beat until it is whipped and a light pink
6. Add vanilla and a pinch of sal

To Assemble: Turn one of your macaron discs over so the flat surface is facing upward. Spread as much of the buttercream as you’d like on top, place second disc on top of first and dust with confectioner’s sugar. Saves for up to two days, even at room temperature.