Today, eventually, I managed to temper a batch of chocolate. This was necessary since, in order to finish my Chocolate and Red Wine cake for the local village show (recipe taken from Claire Clark's amazing cookbook, "Indulge" http://www.amazon.co.uk/Indulge-Perfect-Desserts-Claire-Clark/dp/1906650136/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1315603420&sr=8-1) chocolate rectangles are meant to be used to decorate the outside of the cake.
To make the chocolate rectangles, tempered dark chocolate is spread relatively thickly and hopefully evenly onto acetate sheets. These sheets are then left in the fridge until cold (with the edges pinned down to prevent curling), then carefully divided into rectangles. Then all that's left is to peel the chocolate away from the acetate, without it all snapping or crumbling into a million small pieces. I have attempted this process twice today; first batch went wrong. I did not temper it, because I read in a reputable cookbook that chocolate which is already tempered (i.e any supermarket chocolate) does not need to be tempered again, so long as it is heated very slowly. I failed to heed the "very slowly" part, and instead microwaved the chocolate. Needless to say, the resulting chocolate rectangles were soft and bloomed. Very unattractive - not at all suitable for decorative work.
This meant that I now had a batch of truly untempered chocolate all stuck to acetate sheets, and about half a bar of tempered chocolate. So, I scraped the chocolate off the sheets and tried again. (By this stage I seemed to have used every spare piece of crockery and cutlery in the kitchen.) Using Paul A. Young's (a Chocolatier) method for tempering the chocolate by "seeding", I succeeded in retempering the chocolate which I messed up earlier.
(A summery of the seeding method: Put 2/3 of chocolate required into a heatproof bowl above a pan of cold water. Very slowly, over the course of at least an hour, heat up the water to melt the chocolate. Do not allow the water to boil, or even simmer. Chocolate must not exceed 55 degrees C (which it won't, so long as the water does not boil). When the chocolate is melted, take the bowl off the heat and add the remaining 1/3 of the chocolate. This third must be tempered chocolate, not untempered, since this is used to "seed" the molecules in the heated chocolate into setting in the right formation. Stir until all the chocolate is melted. Cool this mixture until it hits 28-27 degrees, or until it's just beginning to harden. Now, very carefully and slowly, reheat until 32-33 degrees, or until it's just become liquid again, but no further - this is the "working temperature". Heating past this stage will undo all the hard work you've just done.) I actually got interrupted at the cooling stage - fairly sure my chocolate was below 27 degrees when I heated it again, however it still worked just fine.
This, spread onto the acetate and chilled, produced acceptable rectangles, which, most importantly, did not bloom. (Picture of the cake to follow- as yet it is still unsoaked, unglazed and undecorated).
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.
Friday, 9 September 2011
Tuesday, 6 September 2011
Lemon Tart, Shortbread, and Sugar Sticks
Over the weekend I decided to have a barbecue with friends. Well, it didn't go as planned - by the time it came to actually try and cook something on the BBQ, it had gone cold. Despite adding more coal and firelighters to it, the BBQ refused to become hot enough to cook the marinated steaks, which eventually had to be done in a griddle pan, culminating in setting the smoke-detector off just as my parents walked through the front door. Eventually, after thirty minutes on the BBQ, we succeeded in cooking a garlic mushroom. One garlic mushroom. And the supposedly "roasted" peppers remained completely unaffected by the heat. On the bright side, at least it didn't rain.
For dessert that day, I made the Lemon Tart on Larousse page 1061, with an Earl Grey gelato, lemon jelly and honeycomb. I should have been suspicious of the tart recipe to begin with; it says you can substitute 3 oranges or 7 tangerines for the lemons, without changing the quantity of sugar required. This should have indicated to me that the resulting tart would not be the standard sickly-sweet lemon curd flavour - rather, a very tangy lemon tart. However, I realised this upon serving it.
It turns out that timing on this tart is absolutely crucial - it goes in on a 240 degree C oven, for 10-15 minutes. Mother checked on it at ten minutes, stating it was still "liquidy". I checked it after a further two minutes - the half closest to the back of the oven had almost burnt; about 1/3 would have been unservable, assuming you were making it for paying customers rather than friends. Luckily, I was still able to salvage enough portions from the unburnt side of the tart, which in retrospect I could have cut smaller, since I was unaware of just how tangy the tart would be.
Quite a few people left their tart, which doesn't surprise me, considering how strong is was. However the filling is easy to make and quick to cook, even if you do have to continually stare into the oven to judge it's progress and avoid burning. Plus, unlike the standard tarte au citron, this does not require double cream; a huge advantage if, like myself, you are never organised enough to buy more than the basic cookery ingredients in advance. It is likely I will end up making this tart again, although potentially with slightly more sugar in the lemon version. (I do actually like the tart as it is, but I'm not sure that many people would completely share this opinion; if I were making it for guests, especially guests with younger children, slightly more sugar would be required.)
Today, I made Shortbread from the recipe on page 966, for the local Village Show. I added vanilla paste, dried ground rose petals, a few drops of rosewater and a tiny amount of ground cloves for flavour.
Yes, I think I overcooked it slightly - it had 50 minutes on 160 degrees C (the minimum suggested), but it still looks too "golden". The division markings disappeared during baking - I carved them on again afterwards, but this does feel slightly like cheating. The shortbread made the house smell really nice whilst it was baking though. The fluted edge was achieved by using a flan tin, rather than two 15cm cake tins, as suggested in the recipe. I'm considering whether to remake this or not, since to me it looks to golden to win a prize at the show. However I'm currently out of both butter and eggs; bad planning on my part.
Also today I was trying to work out what to make for Christmas presents. On a student budget, this is always tricky. This year it looks like being a cellophane bag of homemade truffles, designed to turn into a hot chocolate drink when dropped into hot milk. Possibly also some homemade Sugar Sticks (sometimes called Swizzle Sticks - a kind of wooden stick with a blob of sugar on the end, used for sweetening tea and coffee). Potentially also a mug, if Whittard of Chelsea have a sale on. Here's my first attempt at Sugar Sticks - (I have yet to cut down the length of the stick).
These were created by combining 75 grams of granulated white sugar with 2 tbl of water, and carefully heating until it has become a mid-caramel colour. Once this has been achieved, add 1 tsp of glucose - this is optional, but it stops the caramel from becoming granular again. Remove from heat, pour onto a strong, greased oven tray. (Heat oven to 140 degrees C at this stage - if the sugar gets too cold and hard, put the oven tray in the oven to heat up again. ) Once the carmel is "pliable" rather than runny, place the end of a wooden skewer into a warm part, aiming to get a "ribbon" of sugar stuck to it; pull the skewer away from the caramel, preserving the strand, and attempt to wrap the strand of sugar around the skewer by twisting the skewer. Keep going until you feel that your sugar stick is big enough.
I did try just repeated dipping of the wooden skewer into the caramel, allowing each layer to dry in between dipping (in a similar method to creating a tapered candle) - it failed. I think as soon as the cold layer went back into the hot sugar, it melted again. Wrapping the caramel around the stick when it had reached a pliable stage was the quicker and easier option. Also, quantities of sugar given here create a very small batch - if you intend to make more than 5 sticks, scale up the batch as necessary. Scaling up has it's benefits, since the sugar will stay warm and pliable for longer. Finished sticks need to be cellophaned as soon as they are cold; sugar is hygroscopic (attracts water), so uncovered sugar, like an unwrapped boiled sweet, goes sticky very quickly. I think that the stickiness will be quite an issue if I do use this idea for Christmas gifts.
For dessert that day, I made the Lemon Tart on Larousse page 1061, with an Earl Grey gelato, lemon jelly and honeycomb. I should have been suspicious of the tart recipe to begin with; it says you can substitute 3 oranges or 7 tangerines for the lemons, without changing the quantity of sugar required. This should have indicated to me that the resulting tart would not be the standard sickly-sweet lemon curd flavour - rather, a very tangy lemon tart. However, I realised this upon serving it.
It turns out that timing on this tart is absolutely crucial - it goes in on a 240 degree C oven, for 10-15 minutes. Mother checked on it at ten minutes, stating it was still "liquidy". I checked it after a further two minutes - the half closest to the back of the oven had almost burnt; about 1/3 would have been unservable, assuming you were making it for paying customers rather than friends. Luckily, I was still able to salvage enough portions from the unburnt side of the tart, which in retrospect I could have cut smaller, since I was unaware of just how tangy the tart would be.
Quite a few people left their tart, which doesn't surprise me, considering how strong is was. However the filling is easy to make and quick to cook, even if you do have to continually stare into the oven to judge it's progress and avoid burning. Plus, unlike the standard tarte au citron, this does not require double cream; a huge advantage if, like myself, you are never organised enough to buy more than the basic cookery ingredients in advance. It is likely I will end up making this tart again, although potentially with slightly more sugar in the lemon version. (I do actually like the tart as it is, but I'm not sure that many people would completely share this opinion; if I were making it for guests, especially guests with younger children, slightly more sugar would be required.)
Today, I made Shortbread from the recipe on page 966, for the local Village Show. I added vanilla paste, dried ground rose petals, a few drops of rosewater and a tiny amount of ground cloves for flavour.
Yes, I think I overcooked it slightly - it had 50 minutes on 160 degrees C (the minimum suggested), but it still looks too "golden". The division markings disappeared during baking - I carved them on again afterwards, but this does feel slightly like cheating. The shortbread made the house smell really nice whilst it was baking though. The fluted edge was achieved by using a flan tin, rather than two 15cm cake tins, as suggested in the recipe. I'm considering whether to remake this or not, since to me it looks to golden to win a prize at the show. However I'm currently out of both butter and eggs; bad planning on my part.
Also today I was trying to work out what to make for Christmas presents. On a student budget, this is always tricky. This year it looks like being a cellophane bag of homemade truffles, designed to turn into a hot chocolate drink when dropped into hot milk. Possibly also some homemade Sugar Sticks (sometimes called Swizzle Sticks - a kind of wooden stick with a blob of sugar on the end, used for sweetening tea and coffee). Potentially also a mug, if Whittard of Chelsea have a sale on. Here's my first attempt at Sugar Sticks - (I have yet to cut down the length of the stick).
These were created by combining 75 grams of granulated white sugar with 2 tbl of water, and carefully heating until it has become a mid-caramel colour. Once this has been achieved, add 1 tsp of glucose - this is optional, but it stops the caramel from becoming granular again. Remove from heat, pour onto a strong, greased oven tray. (Heat oven to 140 degrees C at this stage - if the sugar gets too cold and hard, put the oven tray in the oven to heat up again. ) Once the carmel is "pliable" rather than runny, place the end of a wooden skewer into a warm part, aiming to get a "ribbon" of sugar stuck to it; pull the skewer away from the caramel, preserving the strand, and attempt to wrap the strand of sugar around the skewer by twisting the skewer. Keep going until you feel that your sugar stick is big enough.
I did try just repeated dipping of the wooden skewer into the caramel, allowing each layer to dry in between dipping (in a similar method to creating a tapered candle) - it failed. I think as soon as the cold layer went back into the hot sugar, it melted again. Wrapping the caramel around the stick when it had reached a pliable stage was the quicker and easier option. Also, quantities of sugar given here create a very small batch - if you intend to make more than 5 sticks, scale up the batch as necessary. Scaling up has it's benefits, since the sugar will stay warm and pliable for longer. Finished sticks need to be cellophaned as soon as they are cold; sugar is hygroscopic (attracts water), so uncovered sugar, like an unwrapped boiled sweet, goes sticky very quickly. I think that the stickiness will be quite an issue if I do use this idea for Christmas gifts.
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