Blogging whilst attempting to cook my way through the cookery bible; Larousse Gastronomique. 2009 edition, 1206 pages. Too many recipes to count. At the same time, attempting to gain a maths degree.
Wednesday, 31 August 2011
A is for Aboukir
Yesterday, I made an Aboukir cake. I also got my new camera working, so here's the first image of the blog!
Aboukir - a french cake, cooked in a Charlotte mould, sandwiched with chestnut cream and coated in a coffee frosting. (I didn't have a Charlotte mould. The sprinkles on the top are ground coffee).
About half of it is still in the fridge. Since most of my family are on odd diets (mother and myself cannot tolerate high fat foods and father is "salicylate free", an anti-allergy diet, and possibly the dullest diet of all time), I had to make a low fat cake for it to have been edible by anyone. So, I made a 4-egg whisked sponge and used Italian Meringue to create the chestnut cream filling and the coffee frosting. I'm hoping that enough boiling hot sugar syrup was used to fully cook the egg whites, but I have my doubts - the volume of syrup was quite tiny compared to the volume of egg whites in the bowl. (Usually I would have used powdered pasteurised egg whites when making icings/frostings, as this completely negates any salmonella risk, however I used my last sachets making my father's birthday cake). Even so, the cake turned out reasonably - mother's still tucking into it as I type. It probably would have tasted better had it not been "low fat", but nobody would have been able to eat it.
Bad news- my pickled beetroot has gone moldy. I'm not sure if my homebrewed ginger beer is also going that way - there's some cloudy bits floating throughout the bottle and some sediment in the base. Not sure if this is supposed to happen.
Still trying to find "abondance" cheese, but have ended up spending the rest of my student buget on a sugar pump, in order to create blown sugar bubbles for a friend's birthday cake. So until my loan comes through in the end of September, I will not be ordering "specialist" ingredients online. The next item, "apricot-pays", looks like it's going the same way as "abondance"; something to order online. Still not entirely sure what an "apricot-pays" is - is it the same as a "sapote", or a "mamee"? 'Tis difficult to order something online, when you're not sure what you're actually looking for...
Sunday, 21 August 2011
A is for Abbatoir
Exams are finally over, so now I can get back to cooking. My mind still seems to be stuck on exam-mode; the standard "you've failed all your exams" dreams are already occuring. Not entirely sure when I get my actual exam results, but I hope it's soon.
In homage to "Abbatoir" (the paragraph mentions a stew of meat, herbs and vegetables), I prepared Navarin of Lamb to Raymond Blanc's recipe. (Here's the link: http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2011/mar/09/raymond-blanc-navarin-lamb-recipe). It involves cooking lamb, herbs and root veg for 2 1/2 hours in an oven on 110 degrees Celcius. I was slightly concerned about the low oven temperature, but concerns proved unfounded; the lamb was perfectly cooked. This low temperature/long time combination resulted in the most tender lamb I've ever eaten. Do not be put off by the long cooking time - the preparation time and actual "hands-on" time required is minimal. You can just stick it in the oven and wander off.
I slightly underestimated the amount of herbs to put in - I added a handful from the garden (a combination of rosemary, thyme, mint and parsley) resulting in a Navarin which was "fragrant" rather than "herby" - which is probably how it's meant to be, but I would have preferred a stronger sauce. (Although it's quite likely that the slightly thin sauce was a result of using a full quantity of liquid, but only half the amount of lamb, as only two people were eating it. The veg needed the full amount of water to cook in.) So next time (yes, I will be making this again), more herbs and more peppercorns are the order of the day.
Next, it's onto "Abondance" (a cow's milk Alpine cheese). Since none of my local supermarkets sell this, it looks like I'm going to have to mail-order, however the concept of recieving cheese through the post seems a) unhygenic (lack of refrigeration?) b) expensive, for cheese. c) unfortunate for the postman who has to deliver the cheese, if it's particularly smelly. (I once ordered garlic bulbs for planting through the post - the package smelled pungently, which was not something I had considered. Apologised to the postman, who turned out not to be a vampire). d) it's not really possible to judge the quality and hygenie of the premises where the cheese was kept if you buy it mail order. On this basis I'm considering waiting until Winter to buy "abondance" - at least if it is not delived in a refrigerated van, it will still be cold. Also, I have no idea how to use abondance cheese in cooking; all ideas welcome!.
FYI, I have not skipped "Ablutions at the Table" - I will be serving a finger bowl with whatever I cook next.
Also still have to make some kind of pickle, a chutney, lemon curd, shortbread, a savory quiche, a sandwich cake, a fruit pie, 5 scones, 6 brownies and a loaf of bread for the local village show. I appreciate that some of this stuff is best made on the day of serving, however I still need to finalise recipes, which is taking longer than expected.
There has been two failures on the scones so far; "honeycomb and crystallised ginger" are proving tricky. Honeycomb, the traditonal aerated confection of honey, sugar, and bicarbonate of soda, melts when used as an inclusion in baked goods. The first batch of scones I decided to use large chunks of honeycomb, along with some finely ground honeycomb in the place of sugar. And sliced crystallised ginger. Needless to say, these scones sort of "melted" as the honeycomb warmed up during baking - losing their shape until they could have passed for "messy rock buns", but certainly not scones.
The second batch, I used finely ground honeycomb in the place of sugar, but no large chunks of honeycomb. Still added some finely sliced crystallised ginger. These did turn out looking and tasting like scones, however the taste of honeycomb was not noticable. So that leaves me with a dilemma - increase the amount of finely ground honeycomb in the scone and risk sliding? Or attempt to use just honey instead for the honeycomb flavor (and risk a sticky dough)? Or just give up on the idea, since honeycomb will not maintain it's crunch in a scone anyway...
On the plus side, the Lavender Scones worked out quite nicely; normal scone recipe, but blitz some dried lavender flowers into some sugar. Use the "lavender sugar" in the scones, and possibly sprinkle some on top of the scones before baking. They're really nice.
In homage to "Abbatoir" (the paragraph mentions a stew of meat, herbs and vegetables), I prepared Navarin of Lamb to Raymond Blanc's recipe. (Here's the link: http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2011/mar/09/raymond-blanc-navarin-lamb-recipe). It involves cooking lamb, herbs and root veg for 2 1/2 hours in an oven on 110 degrees Celcius. I was slightly concerned about the low oven temperature, but concerns proved unfounded; the lamb was perfectly cooked. This low temperature/long time combination resulted in the most tender lamb I've ever eaten. Do not be put off by the long cooking time - the preparation time and actual "hands-on" time required is minimal. You can just stick it in the oven and wander off.
I slightly underestimated the amount of herbs to put in - I added a handful from the garden (a combination of rosemary, thyme, mint and parsley) resulting in a Navarin which was "fragrant" rather than "herby" - which is probably how it's meant to be, but I would have preferred a stronger sauce. (Although it's quite likely that the slightly thin sauce was a result of using a full quantity of liquid, but only half the amount of lamb, as only two people were eating it. The veg needed the full amount of water to cook in.) So next time (yes, I will be making this again), more herbs and more peppercorns are the order of the day.
Next, it's onto "Abondance" (a cow's milk Alpine cheese). Since none of my local supermarkets sell this, it looks like I'm going to have to mail-order, however the concept of recieving cheese through the post seems a) unhygenic (lack of refrigeration?) b) expensive, for cheese. c) unfortunate for the postman who has to deliver the cheese, if it's particularly smelly. (I once ordered garlic bulbs for planting through the post - the package smelled pungently, which was not something I had considered. Apologised to the postman, who turned out not to be a vampire). d) it's not really possible to judge the quality and hygenie of the premises where the cheese was kept if you buy it mail order. On this basis I'm considering waiting until Winter to buy "abondance" - at least if it is not delived in a refrigerated van, it will still be cold. Also, I have no idea how to use abondance cheese in cooking; all ideas welcome!.
FYI, I have not skipped "Ablutions at the Table" - I will be serving a finger bowl with whatever I cook next.
Also still have to make some kind of pickle, a chutney, lemon curd, shortbread, a savory quiche, a sandwich cake, a fruit pie, 5 scones, 6 brownies and a loaf of bread for the local village show. I appreciate that some of this stuff is best made on the day of serving, however I still need to finalise recipes, which is taking longer than expected.
There has been two failures on the scones so far; "honeycomb and crystallised ginger" are proving tricky. Honeycomb, the traditonal aerated confection of honey, sugar, and bicarbonate of soda, melts when used as an inclusion in baked goods. The first batch of scones I decided to use large chunks of honeycomb, along with some finely ground honeycomb in the place of sugar. And sliced crystallised ginger. Needless to say, these scones sort of "melted" as the honeycomb warmed up during baking - losing their shape until they could have passed for "messy rock buns", but certainly not scones.
The second batch, I used finely ground honeycomb in the place of sugar, but no large chunks of honeycomb. Still added some finely sliced crystallised ginger. These did turn out looking and tasting like scones, however the taste of honeycomb was not noticable. So that leaves me with a dilemma - increase the amount of finely ground honeycomb in the scone and risk sliding? Or attempt to use just honey instead for the honeycomb flavor (and risk a sticky dough)? Or just give up on the idea, since honeycomb will not maintain it's crunch in a scone anyway...
On the plus side, the Lavender Scones worked out quite nicely; normal scone recipe, but blitz some dried lavender flowers into some sugar. Use the "lavender sugar" in the scones, and possibly sprinkle some on top of the scones before baking. They're really nice.
Wednesday, 10 August 2011
Today, I gained a beard...
Today I was recipe testing for the Sponge Cake category of the local Village Show ("a sponge cake, any flavour, three egg size, no icing"). Having grown bored of the traditional Victoria Sponge, I decided to try the Larousse "Almond Sandwich Cake" on page 1012. It's essentially a whisked sponge with added ground almonds. It wasn't a complete disaster, but something went wrong at some stage, but I'm not sure what it was...
The initial process of whisking sugar with egg yolks until "fine and thick enough to form a ribbon trail" actually resulted in a very stiff mixture - as if there was too much sugar, or not enough egg yolks. (6 yolks to 250 grams sugar - I halved the recipe since it was a test batch). Whisked to a creamy colour, but it was clearly not liquid enough to form the required "ribbon trail"; my electric hand whisk was struggling to beat it. Adding the flour and cornflour to this mixture made the problem worse - the mixture became the consistency of a dough, not a cake batter. Adding ground almonds did nothing to help the dough, and it is at this stage that you're expected to fold in 5 whisked egg whites. Folding egg whites into a stiff dough is an impossible task; it resulted in a lumpy batter, so I probably knocked a fair amount of air out of the egg whites whilst attempting to get the batter smooth. (Resorted to using an electric hand whisk, instead of just folding in the egg whites). By the time the egg whites were mixed in, the consistency was about right for a cake, but a few lumps remained.
At some point during incorporating the flour into the batter with an electric whisk, a cloud of cornflour was created, and decided to settle all over my head. This became apparent upon glancing in the bathroom mirror after cooking- a thin layer of flour had also attached itself to all the fine hairs on my face, resulting in a flour-beard and grey hair.
The cake cooked relatively well. It did rise. It looks like a cake. However it is dry and crumbly, so I'm still on the look out for a prize winning sponge recipe. Also, since it's quite crumbly, a springform tin is useful, since it's easily damaged from attempting to slide it out of a standard loose-bottomed cake tin.
I'm still not sure what went wrong with the recipe; I think my weighing scales are getting old (you weigh out the amount you require, look away from the scale for a second, look back and it says something completely different). On the other hand, a bad workman always blames her tools. Or maybe my egg yolks were just particularly small.
I would say that I'm not intending to make this recipe again, but there's another ten variations on this which I will have to complete whilst working my way through Larousse. Plenty of time to get it right. Mental reminder to buy really large eggs...
Today, I also learned how to prove Expectation for the gamma distribution (X~Gamma (a, r)) = r/a Here's a link to a powerpoint which covers how to prove Expectations for all the main distributions: math.usask.ca/~laverty/S241/.../09%20S241%20Expectation.ppt
The initial process of whisking sugar with egg yolks until "fine and thick enough to form a ribbon trail" actually resulted in a very stiff mixture - as if there was too much sugar, or not enough egg yolks. (6 yolks to 250 grams sugar - I halved the recipe since it was a test batch). Whisked to a creamy colour, but it was clearly not liquid enough to form the required "ribbon trail"; my electric hand whisk was struggling to beat it. Adding the flour and cornflour to this mixture made the problem worse - the mixture became the consistency of a dough, not a cake batter. Adding ground almonds did nothing to help the dough, and it is at this stage that you're expected to fold in 5 whisked egg whites. Folding egg whites into a stiff dough is an impossible task; it resulted in a lumpy batter, so I probably knocked a fair amount of air out of the egg whites whilst attempting to get the batter smooth. (Resorted to using an electric hand whisk, instead of just folding in the egg whites). By the time the egg whites were mixed in, the consistency was about right for a cake, but a few lumps remained.
At some point during incorporating the flour into the batter with an electric whisk, a cloud of cornflour was created, and decided to settle all over my head. This became apparent upon glancing in the bathroom mirror after cooking- a thin layer of flour had also attached itself to all the fine hairs on my face, resulting in a flour-beard and grey hair.
The cake cooked relatively well. It did rise. It looks like a cake. However it is dry and crumbly, so I'm still on the look out for a prize winning sponge recipe. Also, since it's quite crumbly, a springform tin is useful, since it's easily damaged from attempting to slide it out of a standard loose-bottomed cake tin.
I'm still not sure what went wrong with the recipe; I think my weighing scales are getting old (you weigh out the amount you require, look away from the scale for a second, look back and it says something completely different). On the other hand, a bad workman always blames her tools. Or maybe my egg yolks were just particularly small.
I would say that I'm not intending to make this recipe again, but there's another ten variations on this which I will have to complete whilst working my way through Larousse. Plenty of time to get it right. Mental reminder to buy really large eggs...
Today, I also learned how to prove Expectation for the gamma distribution (X~Gamma (a, r)) = r/a Here's a link to a powerpoint which covers how to prove Expectations for all the main distributions: math.usask.ca/~laverty/S241/.../09%20S241%20Expectation.ppt
Monday, 8 August 2011
Day Three
Today, I have created the most amazing marmalade in the world. (It's fine if you consider that statement to be too self-congratulatory, but unless you can provide me a recipe that produces a better marmalade than I have just made, I stand by my original statement.) It is the result of trying to make marmalade from what was left in the kitchen - I was trying to create something cheaply for the local Village Show. And as a result, there is now no sugar left anywhere in the house - cue parental annoyance. Here's the recipe, should you wish to make it yourself (and I highly recommend that you do).
Orange, Clemantine, Rosewater and Cardamon Marmalade
- Two Navel Oranges
-5 or 6 Tired-looking Clemantines (Enough so that the entire quantity of fruit weighs approximately 750 grams. "Tired-looking" is optional)
1100 mls Water
1300 grams Granulated or Preserving Sugar
5 Cardamom Pods
4 Cloves
8 drops Rosewater
Teaspoon of butter
Very large pan - the mixture foams a huge amount during boiling with the sugar.
A sugar thermometer is optional, but handy.
Method: Wash Oranges and Clemantines, particularly if they're not unwaxed, to remove any coatings on the fruit. Place fruit in a pan, cover with the water, bring to the boil and cook with a lid on the pan for about an hour; fruit should be easily pierceable upon prodding with a fork. Turn off the heat, remove the fruit from the pan and leave to cool until cold enough to handle. Reserve the liquid in the pan! (Do not pour down the sink).
When fruit is cool enough to handle, peel the skin away from the fleshy parts, throwing the fleshy parts and pithy bits back into the pan of liquid. (Keep the peel!). Add the cardamom pods (whole), cloves and rosewater to the pan of liquid and orange/clementine flesh, bring to boil, and boil for ten minutes (This is to increase the pectin content of the liquid, to aid setting- do not skip this step). Whilst this is cooking, slice the peels into (neat-ish) strips.
Once the pan of water/pulp/spices has boiled for ten minutes, place a sieve over a large bowl and drain the contents of the pan into the sieve. (It's fine to press down on the pulpy stuff in the sieve, so that it drains quicker). You can now throw away the remaining contents of the sieve. The liquid collected should now be returned to the pan.
Add the sugar and sliced peel to pan of liquid. Bring to boil, and boil until a blob of the mixture placed on a plate and allowed to cool will form a crinkled skin when pushed back with a finger (i.e "Setting point"). This will take around 15-30 minutes. Using a jam thermometer is useful as a confirmation that you have reached setting point, but I prefer not to solely rely upon a thermometer. The mixture starts off as pale, but it will have turned a fairly deep "orange marmalade" colour by the time setting point is achieved - almost as deep as "Frank Coopers thick cut orange marmalade". This is due to caramelisation of the sugar.
When setting point has been reached, turn off the heat, and add a teaspoon of butter. This is to disperse any scum/bubbles that may have accumulated upon the surface of the marmalade. Now, bottle in sterilised containers. This should make approximately four 1lb jars (four 370ml jars).
The next entry in Larousse, "Abattoir" (luckily for me) mentions a "dish of meat, with vegetables and herbs" in the text, and so as a homage to "abattoir", I will be cooking Navarin of Lamb. As opposed to wandering around an abattoir.
Orange, Clemantine, Rosewater and Cardamon Marmalade
- Two Navel Oranges
-5 or 6 Tired-looking Clemantines (Enough so that the entire quantity of fruit weighs approximately 750 grams. "Tired-looking" is optional)
1100 mls Water
1300 grams Granulated or Preserving Sugar
5 Cardamom Pods
4 Cloves
8 drops Rosewater
Teaspoon of butter
Very large pan - the mixture foams a huge amount during boiling with the sugar.
A sugar thermometer is optional, but handy.
Method: Wash Oranges and Clemantines, particularly if they're not unwaxed, to remove any coatings on the fruit. Place fruit in a pan, cover with the water, bring to the boil and cook with a lid on the pan for about an hour; fruit should be easily pierceable upon prodding with a fork. Turn off the heat, remove the fruit from the pan and leave to cool until cold enough to handle. Reserve the liquid in the pan! (Do not pour down the sink).
When fruit is cool enough to handle, peel the skin away from the fleshy parts, throwing the fleshy parts and pithy bits back into the pan of liquid. (Keep the peel!). Add the cardamom pods (whole), cloves and rosewater to the pan of liquid and orange/clementine flesh, bring to boil, and boil for ten minutes (This is to increase the pectin content of the liquid, to aid setting- do not skip this step). Whilst this is cooking, slice the peels into (neat-ish) strips.
Once the pan of water/pulp/spices has boiled for ten minutes, place a sieve over a large bowl and drain the contents of the pan into the sieve. (It's fine to press down on the pulpy stuff in the sieve, so that it drains quicker). You can now throw away the remaining contents of the sieve. The liquid collected should now be returned to the pan.
Add the sugar and sliced peel to pan of liquid. Bring to boil, and boil until a blob of the mixture placed on a plate and allowed to cool will form a crinkled skin when pushed back with a finger (i.e "Setting point"). This will take around 15-30 minutes. Using a jam thermometer is useful as a confirmation that you have reached setting point, but I prefer not to solely rely upon a thermometer. The mixture starts off as pale, but it will have turned a fairly deep "orange marmalade" colour by the time setting point is achieved - almost as deep as "Frank Coopers thick cut orange marmalade". This is due to caramelisation of the sugar.
When setting point has been reached, turn off the heat, and add a teaspoon of butter. This is to disperse any scum/bubbles that may have accumulated upon the surface of the marmalade. Now, bottle in sterilised containers. This should make approximately four 1lb jars (four 370ml jars).
The next entry in Larousse, "Abattoir" (luckily for me) mentions a "dish of meat, with vegetables and herbs" in the text, and so as a homage to "abattoir", I will be cooking Navarin of Lamb. As opposed to wandering around an abattoir.
Sunday, 7 August 2011
Update
There is now also a vat of Blackberry, Apple and Vanilla jelly being strained in the kitchen (before the sugar is added and boiling commences, to turn it into actual jelly). And the starter for alcoholic Ginger Beer, brewing in the kitchen. Mother isn't too happy about this one. (Yes, during University holidays I'm living with my parents. They don't usually object to my cooking escapades too much - especially when they get something edible out of it. However if I use up all the sugar/butter etc... and then create something inedible, they become pretty peeved.)
I really should do some maths now... I do enjoy doing maths, but only when I can understand it. Not that I don't understand my current maths, it's just that it's not as simple as it used to be... which is probably why I procrastinate and cook. It's the difference between understanding the maths enough to be able to answer a question about it, and understanding it enough to be able to really do something with it... It generally takes me about two years between being taught the maths to reaching the stage of "understanding what you can really do with it". Looks like I need to speed up.
Wishing you all a lovely evening, L
I really should do some maths now... I do enjoy doing maths, but only when I can understand it. Not that I don't understand my current maths, it's just that it's not as simple as it used to be... which is probably why I procrastinate and cook. It's the difference between understanding the maths enough to be able to answer a question about it, and understanding it enough to be able to really do something with it... It generally takes me about two years between being taught the maths to reaching the stage of "understanding what you can really do with it". Looks like I need to speed up.
Wishing you all a lovely evening, L
Day Two
So, palmiers are all finished and baked. Egg washing did improve the appearance, but I think just egg yolk may have worked better.
Posted thorough my letter box yesterday was a flyer for the "Village Fruit and Produce Show" - the standard village flower show where the locals attempt to out-compete each other with the longest runner beans, best potatoes and lightest sponge cakes. The garden's looking pretty good at the moment, but I have mistimed all the vegetables to be ready at the wrong time, thus any options to enter into the fruit/veg categories are limited. The Spaghetti Squash which I planted specifically with the squash category in mind have grown really well, however the actual squashes are failing to form on the plants. They get to a couple of inches long, then rot or fall off - I have yet to work out why. However, I'm not one to turn down an opportunity to bake competitively! (Baking categories include: Jar of Jam, Jelly, Marmalade, Chutney, Pickles, alcoholic drink, non-alcoholic drink, scones, brownies, sponge cake, quiche and bread). With this in mind, today I skipped forward to Larousse on "Jams" and made the Apricot Conserve. Worked out really nicely, however I used underripe apricots, so needed to add more water than the recipe stated. Was also surprised by how much it foamed up in the pan - I have made jams before, but none of them foamed up nearly as much as this did Adding Amaretto to the jam was my own addition; it's delicious with apricots. Amaretto is made from the kernels inside the apricot stones, so adding them together in jam just seemed to be a natural partnership. Hoping that the show judges think so too - it's now just over a month away, so still got time to prepare. However, Maths exams are just over a week away, so preparing for these seems more pressing at the moment...
Posted thorough my letter box yesterday was a flyer for the "Village Fruit and Produce Show" - the standard village flower show where the locals attempt to out-compete each other with the longest runner beans, best potatoes and lightest sponge cakes. The garden's looking pretty good at the moment, but I have mistimed all the vegetables to be ready at the wrong time, thus any options to enter into the fruit/veg categories are limited. The Spaghetti Squash which I planted specifically with the squash category in mind have grown really well, however the actual squashes are failing to form on the plants. They get to a couple of inches long, then rot or fall off - I have yet to work out why. However, I'm not one to turn down an opportunity to bake competitively! (Baking categories include: Jar of Jam, Jelly, Marmalade, Chutney, Pickles, alcoholic drink, non-alcoholic drink, scones, brownies, sponge cake, quiche and bread). With this in mind, today I skipped forward to Larousse on "Jams" and made the Apricot Conserve. Worked out really nicely, however I used underripe apricots, so needed to add more water than the recipe stated. Was also surprised by how much it foamed up in the pan - I have made jams before, but none of them foamed up nearly as much as this did Adding Amaretto to the jam was my own addition; it's delicious with apricots. Amaretto is made from the kernels inside the apricot stones, so adding them together in jam just seemed to be a natural partnership. Hoping that the show judges think so too - it's now just over a month away, so still got time to prepare. However, Maths exams are just over a week away, so preparing for these seems more pressing at the moment...
Saturday, 6 August 2011
Day One - "Abaisse"
Abaisse - a French term for a sheet of thinly rolled pastry.
To honour this term, and for a nice easy introduction, I made Orange and Ginger Palmiers. For those who don't know, Palmiers are a biscuit made from puff pastry, which is modelled into a long decorative log shape, with a sweet or savory filling between the layers, sliced and then baked. (At least, I think they are considered to be a "biscuit"). The beauty of palmiers is that they're equally decorative as they are tasty.
Well, I say "I made" - by the time I'd worked out what the filling should be, and how the pastry is meant to be rolled up to create the distinctive scroll shape (which I got wrong the first time and had to peel the pastry apart to have another go), the pastry had warmed up and become sticky. So I baked the offcuts from the very ends of the roll, and stuck the rest in the fridge to cool off, where it remains at the moment. I plan to finish the actual baking of the palmiers tomorrow; currently debating with myself whether to eggwash the biscuits before cooking, since the offcuts came out paler than expected. Also, the orange and ginger flavour was not as strong as I had expected it to be, which was surprising considering the amount of orange peel, fresh and dried ginger in the filling; wondering whether all the butter in the puff pastry somehow conceals/dilutes strong flavours, or whether I just really underestimated what was needed. (Or whether I just tried an offcut with no filling in it.) Although I am quite happy that I finally got the shaping right, even if one scroll is slightly bigger than the other. Hope to have an image of the finished product available soon.
Next up, "Abbatoir"...
To honour this term, and for a nice easy introduction, I made Orange and Ginger Palmiers. For those who don't know, Palmiers are a biscuit made from puff pastry, which is modelled into a long decorative log shape, with a sweet or savory filling between the layers, sliced and then baked. (At least, I think they are considered to be a "biscuit"). The beauty of palmiers is that they're equally decorative as they are tasty.
Well, I say "I made" - by the time I'd worked out what the filling should be, and how the pastry is meant to be rolled up to create the distinctive scroll shape (which I got wrong the first time and had to peel the pastry apart to have another go), the pastry had warmed up and become sticky. So I baked the offcuts from the very ends of the roll, and stuck the rest in the fridge to cool off, where it remains at the moment. I plan to finish the actual baking of the palmiers tomorrow; currently debating with myself whether to eggwash the biscuits before cooking, since the offcuts came out paler than expected. Also, the orange and ginger flavour was not as strong as I had expected it to be, which was surprising considering the amount of orange peel, fresh and dried ginger in the filling; wondering whether all the butter in the puff pastry somehow conceals/dilutes strong flavours, or whether I just really underestimated what was needed. (Or whether I just tried an offcut with no filling in it.) Although I am quite happy that I finally got the shaping right, even if one scroll is slightly bigger than the other. Hope to have an image of the finished product available soon.
Next up, "Abbatoir"...
Friday, 5 August 2011
Greetings!
The Task: I will be endeavouring to cook my way through Larousse, start to finish. Not just the recipes which are given, but also creating something to go along with each definition, famous cook, method, or ingredient which appear in Larousse. I will also be endeavouring to complete the recipes/entries in set order of appearance (i.e A-Z), however I may end up bookmarking a few to come back to at a later date. (At the moment, this proviso covers "Absinthe", which I will be saving to share with university friends, as opposed to my current location; home with the Parents. "Horse" and "Shark", may also have to be postponed until an appropriate sourcing opportunity).
Due to the epic nature of the task, I have decided (for the time being) not to set a deadline for completion, but I'm assuming it will take around 3 - 5 years. Gulp.
Due to the epic nature of the task, I have decided (for the time being) not to set a deadline for completion, but I'm assuming it will take around 3 - 5 years. Gulp.
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