Advocaat- A liqueur made with beaten egg yolks, sugar and spirit. It is sometimes used in cocktails, especially the snowball. (Larousse, p3).
I decided (for some unknown reason), to make Advocaat and Rum-Raisin muffins. (I used a Nigella Lawson recipe from How to be a Domestic Goddess and substituted 3/4 of the milk for Advocaat). The texture of the resulting muffins was really light, but the taste... my mother described it as "mouthwash". Possibly due to a liberal use of nutmeg in the batter. As always, no photos of failures.
Next up was the low-fat pate brisee recipe from Alain Ducasse here. (Technically the recipe is for pate brisee, it just happens to be low fat.) Most people would question the benefits of this recipe, since the "real" full-fat version probably has a better flavour, texture and is easier to make. However, not everybody can tolerate the amount of fat in the traditional full-fat recipe (including myself), which is where this version really comes in useful.
The recipe works by cutting down the butter to 35g per 400g of flour, then adding 100g of potato starch to maintain the "shortness". I did not have potato starch readily available, so after some research (which concluded that potato flour was primarly used to satisfy religious requirements) I replaced it with cornflour.
My Pate Brisee: Makes about 600g- enough to line two 9 inch tart tins.
400g Plain flour
100g Cornflour
35g Butter
5g Salt
5g CasterSugar
2 eggs
100mls water (approx).
Rub the butter into the flours. Add the salt and sugar. Make a well in the centre, break in both eggs and mix, adding the water as you go. Take care not to over-mix.
Notes on working with this Pate Brisee dough: Care must be taken to roll it out as thinly as possible, otherwise the crust will be particularly dense and chewy. In most cases this dough can be used whenever "shortcrust pastry" is specified. If you're concerned that the lack of fat might be detremental to the taste of the tart, add suitable herbs/spices to the dough (at the point where the salt/sugar goes in). I think that if a vanilla pod and brown sugar were used instead of caster, the result would be indistinguishable from the full-fat version.
I did not roll the pastry thin enough, which is why a photo is not currently included - the tart I was making was a bit of a failure, really.
Edit: Since writing this, it has come to my attention that although potato flour and cornflour are in some respects interchangeable, potato flour swells in volume much more than cornflour, which would result in a different texture in the final pastry. I have yet to be able to try out the recipe using potato flour, but I suspect the result may be better.
Saturday, 21 January 2012
Monday, 2 January 2012
Pink Pralines
Last week, I had five different attempts at making the classic French confection of Pralines Roses (Pink Pralines). They are essentially almonds coated in a pink (or sometime red) crystallised coating of sugar, giving them a knobbly appearance and a crunchy texture. Not to be mistaken with traditional Praline, (in which you never want the sugar to recrystallise) or Sugared Almonds, which are again different.
You can buy Pink Pralines in the UK, (from MSK food specialists), but on a student budget, I cannot.
These minute confections are required as decoration on the Pierre Herme creation of Cake Ispahan, which I (badly) made last week. This is what they're meant to look like:
Having scoured the Google search for how to make "Pink Pralines", to no avail, I then started on the search of "Pralines Roses" and trawling french cookery sites. This was slightly more successful - it did yield recipes, but none of the recipes worked for me.
To cut a long story of trial and error short, there were two main problems with the recipes which I found:
- There was the type of recipe which only required the almonds to have once "coating" of the sugar solution. This invariably resulted in badly-coated almonds.
- The type of recipe which coats the almonds once, then reheats everything (including the once-coated almonds) in the pan again, for another coating. This, invaribly, means that the original coating on the almonds melts, leaving the almonds to come out of the process looking no different to when they went in. (Still badly coated).
So, I had to go my own way with the recipe. Alas, it is still not perfect, but hopefully it's getting somewhere. Here's the final product, which I used to decorate Cake Ispahan with: (This picture was taken immediately after cooking; the longer you leave them, the more they crystallise and begin to look more like the professional picture).
Notes on making Praline Roses (Pink Pralines): Please don't use natural food colourings for this. The first three trials I did were with Dr Oetker Natural Red - natural food colourings are perfect if you want to colour white icing and other goods which are not going to be baked/heated. However, as soon as you heat a natural colouring, the colour changes. In this case, to orange. Also, they tend to have a lingering taste (which is worsened when you have to add more of the colouring to the confection which is being heated, in order to achieve the right colour). Dr Oetker Natural Red has a definite beetroot aftertaste. I have nothing against natural colourings, but in this precise context, they do not seem to give a good result.
Paste, gel or power food colourings are preferable to very runny ones which tend to increase the cooking time. (The above images were both achieved with a tiny amount of Sugarflair "Pink").
The sugar is meant to crystallise, so there's no point doing the standard "washing down the sides of the pan with a pastry brush dipped in water, to prevent crystallisation" during the boiling stage. It does feel slightly wrong not having to do that, though.
Some people suggest reheating the left over sugar from the first coating, to form the second coating. This sometimes works and sometimes does not (going horribly granular and difficult to work with), which is why I've given a recipe which uses a lot of sugar but is closer to foolproof.
I have yet to find a way which ensures a complete and even coating on the almonds. Placing the almonds on a baking tray and dripping the coating over does not work, as the sugar coating will set thoroughly in the pan before you've coated anything. Throwing the almonds into the pan seems the best way to ensure that everything is coated, but not necessarily "evenly". All ideas welcome!
Pralines Roses (Pink Pralines)
- A large baking sheet or Silpat
- Icing sugar
- 100g whole, unpeeled Almonds.
400g white granulated sugar
100g / mils water
Pink food colouring
Firstly, toast the almonds in a saute pan, or in the oven for a few minutes. (Not completely necessary for the following process, but it brings out the flavour). Sift a coating of icing sugar over the baking sheet / silpat you will be using. Once the almonds are toasted, place them onto the baking sheet/silpat and dredge in icing sugar.
Place the granulated sugar and water in a pan. Add the required food colouring. (Use the end of a cocktail stick or kebab skewer to pick up a tiny amount of colouring and add it to the pan. Combine and judge whether any more is required.). Now, take half of the contents out of the pan and reserve for the second coating. (This way, both coatings are exactly the same colour. In theory.).
Heat the contents of the pan, stirring with a wooden spoon, until the sugar has dissolved. Add the almonds. Bring to a boil. With the baking tray/silpat nearby, keep testing the sugar solution to see if it has reached the correct temperature, by dripping small amounts of it onto the tray/silpat. When the sugar solution has reached the right temperature, you will notice that the droplets set fairly hard, have a slight golden tinge to them (particularly compared to the first versions which you tested), and you will be able to form a thin strand of sugar between the wooden spoon and the droplets as you drip the solution onto the tray/silpat. When this stage has been reached, turn off the heat and keep stirring the pan, until the mixture becomes "granular". Just before it hardens completely, turn the mixture out of the pan, onto the baking tray/silpat.
At this stage, whilst it's still hot, attempt to break up any huge lumps of almonds which have stuck together, or gained vast amounts of coating. Leave to cool.
This process is repeated again when the almonds are cool, with the reserved batch of sugar/water. (No need to wash the pan out/change pan in between). For this coating, the already-coated almonds (just the almonds, not any of the possibly extraneous coating from the first batch) should be added when the sugar solution has been heated to the right temperature. (Keep the pan on the heat, add the almonds, coat thoroughly, turn off the heat). Pour onto tray/silpat covered in icing sugar and separate any large chucks again.
After two coats, the almonds should be reasonably well-coated. Leave to cool and use as required.
You can buy Pink Pralines in the UK, (from MSK food specialists), but on a student budget, I cannot.
These minute confections are required as decoration on the Pierre Herme creation of Cake Ispahan, which I (badly) made last week. This is what they're meant to look like:
 |
| The bowl on the left is Praline Rose with whole almonds. On the right, similar, but a lower proportion of sugary coating is used to cover crushed almonds. |
Having scoured the Google search for how to make "Pink Pralines", to no avail, I then started on the search of "Pralines Roses" and trawling french cookery sites. This was slightly more successful - it did yield recipes, but none of the recipes worked for me.
To cut a long story of trial and error short, there were two main problems with the recipes which I found:
- There was the type of recipe which only required the almonds to have once "coating" of the sugar solution. This invariably resulted in badly-coated almonds.
- The type of recipe which coats the almonds once, then reheats everything (including the once-coated almonds) in the pan again, for another coating. This, invaribly, means that the original coating on the almonds melts, leaving the almonds to come out of the process looking no different to when they went in. (Still badly coated).
So, I had to go my own way with the recipe. Alas, it is still not perfect, but hopefully it's getting somewhere. Here's the final product, which I used to decorate Cake Ispahan with: (This picture was taken immediately after cooking; the longer you leave them, the more they crystallise and begin to look more like the professional picture).
Paste, gel or power food colourings are preferable to very runny ones which tend to increase the cooking time. (The above images were both achieved with a tiny amount of Sugarflair "Pink").
The sugar is meant to crystallise, so there's no point doing the standard "washing down the sides of the pan with a pastry brush dipped in water, to prevent crystallisation" during the boiling stage. It does feel slightly wrong not having to do that, though.
Some people suggest reheating the left over sugar from the first coating, to form the second coating. This sometimes works and sometimes does not (going horribly granular and difficult to work with), which is why I've given a recipe which uses a lot of sugar but is closer to foolproof.
I have yet to find a way which ensures a complete and even coating on the almonds. Placing the almonds on a baking tray and dripping the coating over does not work, as the sugar coating will set thoroughly in the pan before you've coated anything. Throwing the almonds into the pan seems the best way to ensure that everything is coated, but not necessarily "evenly". All ideas welcome!
Pralines Roses (Pink Pralines)
- A large baking sheet or Silpat
- Icing sugar
- 100g whole, unpeeled Almonds.
400g white granulated sugar
100g / mils water
Pink food colouring
Firstly, toast the almonds in a saute pan, or in the oven for a few minutes. (Not completely necessary for the following process, but it brings out the flavour). Sift a coating of icing sugar over the baking sheet / silpat you will be using. Once the almonds are toasted, place them onto the baking sheet/silpat and dredge in icing sugar.
Place the granulated sugar and water in a pan. Add the required food colouring. (Use the end of a cocktail stick or kebab skewer to pick up a tiny amount of colouring and add it to the pan. Combine and judge whether any more is required.). Now, take half of the contents out of the pan and reserve for the second coating. (This way, both coatings are exactly the same colour. In theory.).
Heat the contents of the pan, stirring with a wooden spoon, until the sugar has dissolved. Add the almonds. Bring to a boil. With the baking tray/silpat nearby, keep testing the sugar solution to see if it has reached the correct temperature, by dripping small amounts of it onto the tray/silpat. When the sugar solution has reached the right temperature, you will notice that the droplets set fairly hard, have a slight golden tinge to them (particularly compared to the first versions which you tested), and you will be able to form a thin strand of sugar between the wooden spoon and the droplets as you drip the solution onto the tray/silpat. When this stage has been reached, turn off the heat and keep stirring the pan, until the mixture becomes "granular". Just before it hardens completely, turn the mixture out of the pan, onto the baking tray/silpat.
At this stage, whilst it's still hot, attempt to break up any huge lumps of almonds which have stuck together, or gained vast amounts of coating. Leave to cool.
 |
| After one coat of sugar. |
This process is repeated again when the almonds are cool, with the reserved batch of sugar/water. (No need to wash the pan out/change pan in between). For this coating, the already-coated almonds (just the almonds, not any of the possibly extraneous coating from the first batch) should be added when the sugar solution has been heated to the right temperature. (Keep the pan on the heat, add the almonds, coat thoroughly, turn off the heat). Pour onto tray/silpat covered in icing sugar and separate any large chucks again.
After two coats, the almonds should be reasonably well-coated. Leave to cool and use as required.
A is for Achar and Adria (Ferran)
Achar - a type of Indian pickle.
The recipe given in Larousse is for a Vegetable (and lemon) Achar, comprising of cabbage, carrots, peppers, onions, ginger, cucumber, cauliflower, french beans and lemons. It requires about two days to create - most of that time is spent steeping chopped vegetables in salt, in order to drain out the water content (a surprising amount of water comes out). Only the lemons in the recipe are actually cooked; the rest of the chopped vegetables receive no cooking time whatsoever. Technically, the cauliflower did not make it into my version - it arrived from Tesco with a few too many slugs in it for my liking.
The recipe is very open to interpretation - no actual quantities of any of the ingredients are given. Which is nice, since you do get to choose what proportions of vegetables you use, but worrying in another way, since it does not say how much salt/vinegar/oil is required in order to sufficiently preserve the final product. Here's my interpretation:
By now, it's been sitting on the kitchen shelf for a couple of days - the bright colours of the various vegetables has receded slightly. However, my main worry (that it would go mouldy/rot) so far has been unfounded. Nobody has dared to taste it yet.
Adria, Ferran - acclaimed Spanish chef, trained at El Bulli.
To fulfil this entry, I did briefly consider spherifying my dinner. However, luckily for me, Mr Adria has published The Family Meal: Home Cooking with Ferran Adria, which includes the recipe for a "Crisp Omelette" - an omelette with ready-salted crisps in it. (Make the omelette as normal, but when you drop the beaten eggs into the pan, add a handful of crisps on top. Continue to draw in the edges of the omelette and swirl the pan (as per usual technique) so that the gaps where you have drawn in the edges are now filled with the still-runny egg mixture.) I did not serve it folded/rolled, since the crisps would've broken up had I done. I'm not entirely sure how this is meant to be served.
I decided not to include a photo of the finished article, since it looked a lot like how you'd imagine a "Crisp Omelette" to appear. I hear it tasted fairly nice though.
Also this week, I finally got around to cooking something from Pierre Herme's Ph10. Making things from this book takes a lot of pre-planning, not least to find a good translation, but also to fully understand the recipes when it has been translated. Here's my first attempt at Cake Ispahan, covered with homemade Pink Pralines and Crystallised Rose Petals:
I accidentally overcooked the sponge. I think it was a consequence of not having exactly the right size cake tins and so having to guess cooking times; I was too worried that if I took it out early, it would sink. Thankfully the cake has quite a firm crumb, meaning that it's fairly easy to cut off the overcooked sides and top crusts without it crumbling everywhere. (And yes, the sponge inside is also bright pink). I'm happy with it as a first attempt, but it's nowhere near perfect.
I'll include the instructions on how to make Pink Pralines in a future post; they're amazing for decorating baked goods, but also for baking things with them in the dough. (Such as the French classic Brioche a praline rose). Yummy.
The recipe given in Larousse is for a Vegetable (and lemon) Achar, comprising of cabbage, carrots, peppers, onions, ginger, cucumber, cauliflower, french beans and lemons. It requires about two days to create - most of that time is spent steeping chopped vegetables in salt, in order to drain out the water content (a surprising amount of water comes out). Only the lemons in the recipe are actually cooked; the rest of the chopped vegetables receive no cooking time whatsoever. Technically, the cauliflower did not make it into my version - it arrived from Tesco with a few too many slugs in it for my liking.
The recipe is very open to interpretation - no actual quantities of any of the ingredients are given. Which is nice, since you do get to choose what proportions of vegetables you use, but worrying in another way, since it does not say how much salt/vinegar/oil is required in order to sufficiently preserve the final product. Here's my interpretation:
Adria, Ferran - acclaimed Spanish chef, trained at El Bulli.
To fulfil this entry, I did briefly consider spherifying my dinner. However, luckily for me, Mr Adria has published The Family Meal: Home Cooking with Ferran Adria, which includes the recipe for a "Crisp Omelette" - an omelette with ready-salted crisps in it. (Make the omelette as normal, but when you drop the beaten eggs into the pan, add a handful of crisps on top. Continue to draw in the edges of the omelette and swirl the pan (as per usual technique) so that the gaps where you have drawn in the edges are now filled with the still-runny egg mixture.) I did not serve it folded/rolled, since the crisps would've broken up had I done. I'm not entirely sure how this is meant to be served.
I decided not to include a photo of the finished article, since it looked a lot like how you'd imagine a "Crisp Omelette" to appear. I hear it tasted fairly nice though.
Also this week, I finally got around to cooking something from Pierre Herme's Ph10. Making things from this book takes a lot of pre-planning, not least to find a good translation, but also to fully understand the recipes when it has been translated. Here's my first attempt at Cake Ispahan, covered with homemade Pink Pralines and Crystallised Rose Petals:
I'll include the instructions on how to make Pink Pralines in a future post; they're amazing for decorating baked goods, but also for baking things with them in the dough. (Such as the French classic Brioche a praline rose). Yummy.
Friday, 23 December 2011
A is for Absinthe
Absinthe - a famous, or infamous liqueur, absinthe takes it's name from the aromatic plant which contains an alkaloid used since ancient times as a tonic. Wormwood is the principle one of the 14 herbs which are macerated in grape spirit, but hyssop and mint are included. It is famous for it's green colour.
I meant to post this entry a few weeks ago, but got distracted. Having purchased an Absinthe miniature a couple of months ago, I used a couple of tablespoons of it to cook with and gave the rest to a university friend, who was broke and facing an evening of being sober and sociable. Technically I haven't seen her since, but I hear she's fine. I did not try the Absinthe in it's uncooked state - to me, it smelled and looked just like "Difflam Oral Rinse", a mouthwash designed to cure sore throats and mouth ulcers. Useful stuff, but I'd never be inclined to cook with it.
To fulfil this entry in Larousse, I made Candied Pears in Absinthe. (Actually, I admit they were meant to be Poached Pears in Absinthe, but due to a happy accident with sugar-to-water ratios they ended up partly candied, so I thought I may as well keep going and fully candy them). I love candied fruit and until now never realised quite how easy it is to make.
(My apologies for the lack of photos currently in this post - I do plan to remake this in order to provide photographic guidance - originally the pears were eaten before they could be photographed. )
Candied Pears in Absinthe
Notes: (Please read before you commence cooking!)
The pears which you use to make this must be very under-ripe. Completely rock hard and inedible, to be honest. This means that the pears will have the strength to survive the prolonged cooking, without disintegrating. Also, ripe pears would contribute a lot of liquid to the "sugar syrup" which the pears are poached in, meaning that the syrup would have to be cooked far longer to achieve the required concentration of sugar-to-liquid.
Small pears work best for candying, since they take less time to become fully saturated with sugar syrup then a larger pear would - hence there is no time for the fruit to accidentally rot, or begin to ferment. I used a bag of Tesco value pears for this, which turned out the be perfect for the purpose.
I have not used a saccherometer (a hydrometer used to determine the concentration of sugar in a solution) for candying, since I do not have one. I appreciate that this does mean some accuracy is lost when attempting to replicate a recipe, however I personally think that I really good result can be achieved by using visual cues rather than measuring degrees Brix. All pears are not created equal, which cannot be controlled for, so sometimes it seems meaningless to be "over-controlling" over one element of the recipe, such as the concentration of the sugar syrup, when the other element is equally variable. Furthermore, hobs, pans and sugar are variable, as are saccherometer's (to a certain extent), so why complicate matters further by adding Brix readings? At least, that's my reasoning.
- 7 or 8 small pears
- 2 cups granulated white sugar
- 1 cup of water
- Juice and zest of one lemon
A glug of Absinthe, to taste.
(I appreciate that it may irritate some people that I've used "cups" rather than a weight measurement. This would normally irritate me slightly. However in this case it's the "ratio" of sugar to water which is important, not the weight in itself. A mug will do, it does not have to be a specific measuring cup. This way, it's also far easier to scale up or down the recipe as required).
1. Peel the pears and slice in half vertically. You may want to take the time to remove the seeds and stringy bits at this point (using a melon baller is the best way) but it's not completely necessary.
2. Add the water, lemon juice, lemon zest and sugar to a pan, place over a medium heat and bring to the boil, stirring until the sugar dissolves. Add the absinthe. Add the pears to the pan and simmer without a lid on, until the pears are reaching a stage of "translucency" around all the outer edges. (At least 15 minutes, maybe up to 30).
3. Remove the pan from the heat and pour the entire contents into a large Tupperware (sealable) box. Leave at room temperature to go cold - it is during this time that the pears will absorb the sugar and become "saturated".
(If you have done this in the morning, wait until evening and "reheat" according to the instructions below. If you have done the above in the evening, wait until the next morning and "reheat" as below).
The reheating process - this ensures that the entire fruit is candied, not just the layers near the surface.
4. Place the contents of the Tupperware box (pears, syrup and all) into a pan and bring to boil for 5-7 minutes. This prevents the fruit from fermenting, or going mouldy during the "cooling off/saturating time". It also helps the saturating process.
5. Pour the mixture back into the box and leave to cool at room temperature, again.
To store, you can either sterilise glass jars and pour in the pears with the syrup (reheating once more in order to do this in a sterile fashion), or take the pears out of the syrup and roll in granulated / other decorative sugars.
I meant to post this entry a few weeks ago, but got distracted. Having purchased an Absinthe miniature a couple of months ago, I used a couple of tablespoons of it to cook with and gave the rest to a university friend, who was broke and facing an evening of being sober and sociable. Technically I haven't seen her since, but I hear she's fine. I did not try the Absinthe in it's uncooked state - to me, it smelled and looked just like "Difflam Oral Rinse", a mouthwash designed to cure sore throats and mouth ulcers. Useful stuff, but I'd never be inclined to cook with it.
To fulfil this entry in Larousse, I made Candied Pears in Absinthe. (Actually, I admit they were meant to be Poached Pears in Absinthe, but due to a happy accident with sugar-to-water ratios they ended up partly candied, so I thought I may as well keep going and fully candy them). I love candied fruit and until now never realised quite how easy it is to make.
(My apologies for the lack of photos currently in this post - I do plan to remake this in order to provide photographic guidance - originally the pears were eaten before they could be photographed. )
Candied Pears in Absinthe
Notes: (Please read before you commence cooking!)
The pears which you use to make this must be very under-ripe. Completely rock hard and inedible, to be honest. This means that the pears will have the strength to survive the prolonged cooking, without disintegrating. Also, ripe pears would contribute a lot of liquid to the "sugar syrup" which the pears are poached in, meaning that the syrup would have to be cooked far longer to achieve the required concentration of sugar-to-liquid.
Small pears work best for candying, since they take less time to become fully saturated with sugar syrup then a larger pear would - hence there is no time for the fruit to accidentally rot, or begin to ferment. I used a bag of Tesco value pears for this, which turned out the be perfect for the purpose.
I have not used a saccherometer (a hydrometer used to determine the concentration of sugar in a solution) for candying, since I do not have one. I appreciate that this does mean some accuracy is lost when attempting to replicate a recipe, however I personally think that I really good result can be achieved by using visual cues rather than measuring degrees Brix. All pears are not created equal, which cannot be controlled for, so sometimes it seems meaningless to be "over-controlling" over one element of the recipe, such as the concentration of the sugar syrup, when the other element is equally variable. Furthermore, hobs, pans and sugar are variable, as are saccherometer's (to a certain extent), so why complicate matters further by adding Brix readings? At least, that's my reasoning.
- 7 or 8 small pears
- 2 cups granulated white sugar
- 1 cup of water
- Juice and zest of one lemon
A glug of Absinthe, to taste.
(I appreciate that it may irritate some people that I've used "cups" rather than a weight measurement. This would normally irritate me slightly. However in this case it's the "ratio" of sugar to water which is important, not the weight in itself. A mug will do, it does not have to be a specific measuring cup. This way, it's also far easier to scale up or down the recipe as required).
1. Peel the pears and slice in half vertically. You may want to take the time to remove the seeds and stringy bits at this point (using a melon baller is the best way) but it's not completely necessary.
2. Add the water, lemon juice, lemon zest and sugar to a pan, place over a medium heat and bring to the boil, stirring until the sugar dissolves. Add the absinthe. Add the pears to the pan and simmer without a lid on, until the pears are reaching a stage of "translucency" around all the outer edges. (At least 15 minutes, maybe up to 30).
3. Remove the pan from the heat and pour the entire contents into a large Tupperware (sealable) box. Leave at room temperature to go cold - it is during this time that the pears will absorb the sugar and become "saturated".
(If you have done this in the morning, wait until evening and "reheat" according to the instructions below. If you have done the above in the evening, wait until the next morning and "reheat" as below).
The reheating process - this ensures that the entire fruit is candied, not just the layers near the surface.
4. Place the contents of the Tupperware box (pears, syrup and all) into a pan and bring to boil for 5-7 minutes. This prevents the fruit from fermenting, or going mouldy during the "cooling off/saturating time". It also helps the saturating process.
5. Pour the mixture back into the box and leave to cool at room temperature, again.
To store, you can either sterilise glass jars and pour in the pears with the syrup (reheating once more in order to do this in a sterile fashion), or take the pears out of the syrup and roll in granulated / other decorative sugars.
Thursday, 22 December 2011
A is for Accolade, En.
En Accolade - a technique of arranging two pieces of meat or poultry, by leaning them against each other.
I have accidentally left my copy of Larousse at university, so the above definition is not a quote, more of a "what I can remember" from the definition. To cover this, I made Ballotine of Chicken en Accolade. "Ballotine" being the technique of wrapping the chicken around a filling, forming into a "sausage" shape by wrapping in cling-film and poaching in chicken stock to cook.
The ballotine is stuffed with ricotta, spinach and nutmeg mixture, served on a bed of crushed potatoes (home grown, I might add. I think these were the best bit) with caramelised fennel, balsamic tomatoes and potato gnocchi. The sauce is a mixture of basil pesto and white wine. Presentation was never my strong point, but maybe one day I'll get the hang of it.
It was OK. I personally don't think the result was worth the amount of time spent making it. The chicken was dry, although it was interesting to work out how to make a ballotine. And it needed more of a sauce. But it's all good cookery practise.
Also, I thought I'd share with you the baked Spaghetti Squash successfully grown in my back garden last year.
Looks fine, baked fine, but tasted a bit... foul, really. This one was baked with a knob of butter, brown sugar and nutmeg. I've never gotten the hang of how to bake squash - they always have a bitter aftertaste whenever I try it. This one, like so many others, was no exception to the bitter aftertaste. Not sure where I'm going wrong.
Yes, it's the Christmas Holidays. Two weeks at home. (Yay!) Revising for January exams. (Gulp). I currently feel very far behind with revision. Partly thanks to the increased baking opportunities of being at home. Also, partly because I have spent the past couple of weeks drooling over Pierre Herme's Ph 10 book, which my parent's kindly bought me as a joint birthday/Christmas gift. 600 pages, written entirely in French and weighs a tonne. I can't wait to try it out.
I have accidentally left my copy of Larousse at university, so the above definition is not a quote, more of a "what I can remember" from the definition. To cover this, I made Ballotine of Chicken en Accolade. "Ballotine" being the technique of wrapping the chicken around a filling, forming into a "sausage" shape by wrapping in cling-film and poaching in chicken stock to cook.
It was OK. I personally don't think the result was worth the amount of time spent making it. The chicken was dry, although it was interesting to work out how to make a ballotine. And it needed more of a sauce. But it's all good cookery practise.
Also, I thought I'd share with you the baked Spaghetti Squash successfully grown in my back garden last year.
Yes, it's the Christmas Holidays. Two weeks at home. (Yay!) Revising for January exams. (Gulp). I currently feel very far behind with revision. Partly thanks to the increased baking opportunities of being at home. Also, partly because I have spent the past couple of weeks drooling over Pierre Herme's Ph 10 book, which my parent's kindly bought me as a joint birthday/Christmas gift. 600 pages, written entirely in French and weighs a tonne. I can't wait to try it out.
Thursday, 24 November 2011
A is for Amaretto
Amaretto di Saronno - an Italian liqueur flavored with almonds, apricot kernels and aromatic extracts. Larousse p13.
They forgot to mention that Amaretto di Saronno also delicious.
I adore Amaretto, hence skipping ahead slightly to this entry. It brings a whole new dimension to baked goods and also makes a lovely addition to coffee. This entry coincides with my friend M's belated birthday (their twenty-first birthday was late September when very few people were available to celebrate, hence it's being celebrated again, in style) which inspired me to make a batch of di Saronno and Almond Brownies, as an alternative to a belated birthday cake.
One day I will work out how to do food photography.... In real life they looked less messy.
I have also been experimenting with sorbets and gelatos recently; the picture below is Strawberry and Amaretto Granita.
This is based on the recipe for Vegan Strawberry Ice cream by David Lebovitz, the only difference being I used 1 1/2 tablespoons of Amaretto as the in place of kirsch/vodka/Grand Marnier, and golden syrup in the place of honey (I was out of honey). It was yummy. However I would not personally consider this "ice cream" (which actually has a strict definition) - it is vegan (depending on whether you use honey) and is not "rich" in any way. I think it an ice cream maker was used, it would have the consistency of sorbet. Whereas I went with the "freeze and stir hourly" method, which resulted in a granita/sherbert consistency. Wonderful, nonetheless.
I have also had two attempts at ciabatta in the past two days. Both attempts were failures. Looked like ciabatta on the outside, but on the inside the crumb was invariably dense and sticky. And a little too salty. Hoping that the next attempt will be more successful; I think the first couple were under-proved. Number 1 I mistimed; it would have been fully proven when I was in a lecture. So I baked it early, hoping for some oven-spring. None happened. It was a brick. Attempt two was marginally better, but still peculiar.
Today, I learnt not to cook ciabatta before it's proved. I also learnt that the amount of numbers between 0 and 1 is the same as the amount of numbers in the set of all real numbers. And that if two groups are infinite, you can assume they contain the same amount of elements (even though infinity doesn't exist). How long is a piece of string? Why, it's length l.
They forgot to mention that Amaretto di Saronno also delicious.
I adore Amaretto, hence skipping ahead slightly to this entry. It brings a whole new dimension to baked goods and also makes a lovely addition to coffee. This entry coincides with my friend M's belated birthday (their twenty-first birthday was late September when very few people were available to celebrate, hence it's being celebrated again, in style) which inspired me to make a batch of di Saronno and Almond Brownies, as an alternative to a belated birthday cake.
I have also been experimenting with sorbets and gelatos recently; the picture below is Strawberry and Amaretto Granita.
I have also had two attempts at ciabatta in the past two days. Both attempts were failures. Looked like ciabatta on the outside, but on the inside the crumb was invariably dense and sticky. And a little too salty. Hoping that the next attempt will be more successful; I think the first couple were under-proved. Number 1 I mistimed; it would have been fully proven when I was in a lecture. So I baked it early, hoping for some oven-spring. None happened. It was a brick. Attempt two was marginally better, but still peculiar.
Today, I learnt not to cook ciabatta before it's proved. I also learnt that the amount of numbers between 0 and 1 is the same as the amount of numbers in the set of all real numbers. And that if two groups are infinite, you can assume they contain the same amount of elements (even though infinity doesn't exist). How long is a piece of string? Why, it's length l.
Saturday, 19 November 2011
How to make popcorn in a pan.
This pretty much ticks the entry of "Popcorn" on Larousse page 812. Many years ago I attempted to make popcorn in a pan on the stove, deemed it impossible (due to burning) and brought a popcorn machine. But today I'm at uni, the popcorn machine is at home, and I thought I'd have another go, since Popcorn seemed the idea solution of "what-can-I-take-to-friends-party's-to-look-like-a-decent-guest-but-which-isn't-too-expensive" dilemma. The final attempt proved perfectly successful, so I though it appropriate to share the technique with you all. Enjoy!
To cook the popcorn: Coat the inside base of the pan in a thin layer of sunflower oil (approx 1/2 a teaspoon), or another neutrally flavoured oil which will survive a high temperature. Don't use butter or butter/oil blends since they will burn. (You may be able to pop the kernels in a dry pan, however I have not tried it.)
Place the pan on a high heat, let it warm for a minute or two : you want it to be warm-hot, not smoking hot. (Otherwise there's a risk of burning your popcorn, and also a risk of the kernels exploding the second you drop them into the pan, which is both inconvenient and dangerous. i.e you want the pan to be hot, but not yet hot enough to pop the kernels.)
Add your popcorn kernels to the pan (enough to half-cover the base, or fewer) and immediately place the lid on it. Frequently swirl the pan over the heat to ensure that the kernels will not stick/burn to the base of the pan. The kernels will change to a "golden" hue before they pop; this should not be taken to be "burning".
(However any dark brown/black patches, or smell of burning does mean that they're burnt. Burning occurs when the outside of the kernels are heated greatly before the inside has heated enough for it to pop. This is prevented by not "super heating" your pan to begin with. If burning occurs, whether before or after the kernels have popped, discard the batch and begin again, with the pan less hot. Another advantage of making small batches is that if you burn one you haven't wasted all your kernels.)
Maintain the heat and swirling until approximately 1/4 - 1/3 of the kernels have popped (around 1-2 minutes after going into the pan). Now either turn down the heat to it's lowest setting, or turn it off altogether, leaving the pan on the residual heat of the ring (e.g if you have an induction hob). This is enough heat to sustain the popping, but minimises the potential for burning. Maintain swirling the pan until the popping has pretty much stopped, to further prevent burning.
Remove the pan from the heat, but keep the lid in place for another minute or so. This gives you time to prepare any coatings/ flavourings for the popcorn.
A "recipe" for one of my favourite popcorn coatings: Make a dry caramel (add granulated white or unrefined sugar to a pan, carefully cook until mid-golden). In the meantime, sprinkle cinnamon and nutmeg over the dry popcorn, along with 1/4 teaspoon of salt. To the pan of golden caramel, add some toasted flaked almonds. Drizzle the caramel over the popcorn, stirring the popcorn as you go, in an attempt to get it evenly coated. Yummy.
- The pan you use must have a lid. This is imperative, since attempting to contain popping popcorn in a pan without a lid would be disastrous. Also, the lid prevents hot popcorn kernels from leaping from the pan and splattering you, causing burns etc... A clear (glass) lid is useful, since this allows you to check that your kernels are not burning.
- The pan needs to be big enough to allow plenty of room for popcorn expansion. However, it also needs to be light enough for you to swirl it around on top of the stove. (Since popcorn must be cooked with a lid on the pan, the pan must be swirled around to prevent the kernels from burning. You cannot take the lid off and stir the contents.)
- Don't overfill the pan. At most, the popcorn kernels should cover half of the base of the pan (in one layer). (I used a 2 litre pan and 2 tbl popcorn kernels. It made enough to fill 4-5 cereal bowls full). Overfilling the pan will either result in many unpopped kernels, or burnt popcorn. If you want to make a lot of popcorn, make it in batches rather than using a huge pan/huge quantities of kernels. One batch takes around 3-5 minutes.
- Your popcorn kernels should be plain (unflavoured) for cooking in a pan. Microwaveable varieties with added coating/flavourings will burn if you cook them in a pan.
- Never take the lid off and peer into the pan to see how it's cooking. If you must take the lid off the pan during cooking (or within two minutes of turning the heat off), e.g briefly to see if you've burnt it, keep the pan at arms length, tilted away from you. However, if it smells burnt, it probably is burnt, so stop cooking it and begin again.
To cook the popcorn: Coat the inside base of the pan in a thin layer of sunflower oil (approx 1/2 a teaspoon), or another neutrally flavoured oil which will survive a high temperature. Don't use butter or butter/oil blends since they will burn. (You may be able to pop the kernels in a dry pan, however I have not tried it.)
Place the pan on a high heat, let it warm for a minute or two : you want it to be warm-hot, not smoking hot. (Otherwise there's a risk of burning your popcorn, and also a risk of the kernels exploding the second you drop them into the pan, which is both inconvenient and dangerous. i.e you want the pan to be hot, but not yet hot enough to pop the kernels.)
Add your popcorn kernels to the pan (enough to half-cover the base, or fewer) and immediately place the lid on it. Frequently swirl the pan over the heat to ensure that the kernels will not stick/burn to the base of the pan. The kernels will change to a "golden" hue before they pop; this should not be taken to be "burning".
(However any dark brown/black patches, or smell of burning does mean that they're burnt. Burning occurs when the outside of the kernels are heated greatly before the inside has heated enough for it to pop. This is prevented by not "super heating" your pan to begin with. If burning occurs, whether before or after the kernels have popped, discard the batch and begin again, with the pan less hot. Another advantage of making small batches is that if you burn one you haven't wasted all your kernels.)
Maintain the heat and swirling until approximately 1/4 - 1/3 of the kernels have popped (around 1-2 minutes after going into the pan). Now either turn down the heat to it's lowest setting, or turn it off altogether, leaving the pan on the residual heat of the ring (e.g if you have an induction hob). This is enough heat to sustain the popping, but minimises the potential for burning. Maintain swirling the pan until the popping has pretty much stopped, to further prevent burning.
Remove the pan from the heat, but keep the lid in place for another minute or so. This gives you time to prepare any coatings/ flavourings for the popcorn.
A "recipe" for one of my favourite popcorn coatings: Make a dry caramel (add granulated white or unrefined sugar to a pan, carefully cook until mid-golden). In the meantime, sprinkle cinnamon and nutmeg over the dry popcorn, along with 1/4 teaspoon of salt. To the pan of golden caramel, add some toasted flaked almonds. Drizzle the caramel over the popcorn, stirring the popcorn as you go, in an attempt to get it evenly coated. Yummy.
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