Tag: cardamom

  • Cardamom ice-cream

    Cardamom ice-cream

    When I decided to write about cardamom ice-cream, I knew I had to begin by tracing the spice’s origins in Swedish baking. And it’s been a journey, one possibly even longer than cardamom’s itself!

    From what I’ve been able to gather, its path to Sweden is shrouded in mystery, starting in the distant lands of South Asia and the Middle East. As trade routes expanded, the spice eventually found its way to Europe and the Nordic countries, carried by the Moors, perhaps, or by Roman or Byzantine traders.

    Magnus Nilsson, chef-owner of the – closed – restaurant Fäviken, wrote that “cardamom is a spice that has been used in the Nordic countries since the Middle Ages, most likely because of trade links with the East. It was and still is a very expensive spice, and historically it was a marker of wealth and status.” (Nilsson, 2015, p.96).

    Fast-forward many centuries, and cardamom has found a home in every Swedish kitchen. From kardemummabullar to semlor, from pepparkakor to vörtbröd, cardamom is most definitely not used scarcely.

    Is it its warming and pungent flavour that pairs so perfectly with the harsh winters. Or Sweden’s history as a trading nation, where spices like cardamom, cinnamon, and saffron were highly sought after?

    Whatever the reason may be, there is one thing I know for sure. Cardamom’s journey as a staple in Swedish baking is as fascinating as it is delicious.

    I then proceeded to research its etymology and first documented appearance – a glögg [mulled wine] recipe from Åke Rålamb’s dating 1690!
    By the mid 18th century, cardamom was used in many recipes as pictured by Cajsa Warg’s 1755 book Hjelpreda I Hushållningen För Unga Fruentimber.

    From Hjelpreda I Hushållningen För Unga Fruentimber, Cajsa Warg (1755)

    In a recipe for små pepparkakor [small gingersnaps] she writes about cardamom – cardemummor [modern spelling: kardemumma] along with cinnamon, lemon zest, and bitter orange zest.

    For a reason I quite can’t grasp the name of these spices are written in a different typography and other ingredients – like flour or cream of tartar – are not.

    “Make a sirup using 5 pounds sugar and one liter water, which is beaten in a trough. Then, add 5 pounds good flour in there and mix immediately with 1 1/2 lod* cardamom, 1/2 lod mace, 1 1/2 lod cinnamon, 1/2 lod cloves, 3 lods broken bitter orange peel, 3 lods broken lemon peel, 1 1/2 lod grains of paradise, and 1 1/2 lod cream of tartar, which is first strained and mixed with rose water. Then stir it all into the syrup, while it is still warm, for a full hour using a wooden pestle, and let it ferment for half a day.”
    ー Hjelpreda I Hushållningen För Unga Fruentimber, Cajsa Warg (1755)

    * Lod: an old Swedish weight unit, approximately 13 grams or 1/32 pound.

    Cardamom ice-cream

    Spring is very much on the way in Northern Sweden. Today my raised beds made an appearance for the first time in months – just last week they were coevred in over half a meter snow.
    Of course, spring only means one thing: rhubarb – although I must admit it won't grow up here until well into the month of May. In Sweden, rhubarb is almost always paired with cardamom, a combination that is so beloved it's alsmot become a tradition.
    This cardamom ice-cream is the perfect à la mode accompaniment for your favourite rhubarb cake or crumble.

    Notes

    – I like to use both cardamom seeds and green cardamom pods when making cardamom ice-cream as I find it creates a more complex and layered flavour profile. By combining the two, a delicate balance between the warm pungency of the seeds and the sweet floral tones of the pods is achieved.
    – I will always freshly grind the cardamom seeds – there is no comaprison between freshly ground and shop-bought-ground. You can easily do this using a mortar. I like to pass my ice-cream base through a sieve coarse enough to let the small ground seeds through but catch the cardamom pods. 
    – In case you couldn’t get your hands on cardamom seeds, simply use a total of 1-2 tablespoons of cardamom pods, depending on how strong you want your ice-cream to be. 
    Author: Fanny Zanotti
    Prep Time15 minutes
    Cook Time10 minutes
    Total Time25 minutes
    Makes 1.4 L ice-cream base

    Ingredients

    • 500 g whole milk
    • 500 g whipping cream
    • 2 tsp cardamom seeds finely ground
    • 1 tsp green cardamom pods coarsely crushed
    • 200 g egg yolks
    • 200 g golden caster sugar
    • a pinch of sea salt

    Instructions

    • Bring the milk, cream, and ground cardamom seeds and crushed pods to the boil. Cover and allow to infuse for one hour.
    • Bring to the boil again.
    • In the meantime, combine the egg yolks, sugar and salt in a bowl using a whisk. When the cream has boiled, pour it over the egg yolks, whisking as you do so; then return the egg yolk mixture back into the pan.
    • Heat gently, mixing with a heatproof silicone spatula until the ice-cream base is 81°C – thick enough to coat the back of a spoon.
    • Pass through a coarse-sieve – you just want to remove the cardamom pods.
    • Immediately transfer into a heat-proof container. Clingfilm to the touch and refrigerate for 6 hours or overnight.
    • Churn the ice-cream according to the manufacturer’s instructions.
    Sources

    – America’s Test Kitchen. (2020, January 13). Cardamom: How Did It Become Scandinavia’s Favorite Spice? https://www.americastestkitchen.com/cooksillustrated/articles/3076-cardamom-how-did-it-become-scandinavia-s-favorite-spice

    – Lundtan. (2018, December 12). The History of Eastern Spices in Swedish Baking. Lundtan. https://lundtan.lundaekonomerna.se/the-history-of-eastern-spices-in-swedish-baking/

    – Nilsson, M. (2015). The Nordic Cookbook. Phaidon Press.

    – SAOB. (2023). Kardemumma. In Svenska Akademiens ordbok. Hämtad 2023-04-14 från https://www.saob.se/artikel/?seek=kardemumma&pz=6.

    – Swedish Spoon. (n.d.). Cardamom Buns (Kardemummabullar). Retrieved April 14, 2023, from https://swedishspoon.com/cardamom-buns/

  • Swedish pepparkakor

    Swedish pepparkakor

    This Swedish pepparkakor recipe isn’t one that comes with many traditions. It was in fact created on the very first weekend of advent earlier this month after days of formula research and calculations.

    We had just brought upstairs two cardboard boxes labelled hastily JUL 2015 [Christmas 2015] from our förråd [storage] and there were candles lighting our house to the most beautiful shade of gold; the sharp and intense smell of resin diffusing through every room, like a morning promenade through the forest.

    I had just unpacked a small pink plastic basket, filled to the rim with pepparkaksformar [cookie cutters] that I’d found last summer at a garage sale at one of the houses we’d cycle by every morning.
    After a quick run under warm soapy water, I left them to dry over my favourite torchon [kitchen cloth], the light grey one with nid d’abeilles [honeycomb] fabric.

    Later that night, we used them to cut through the dough we’d made the night before. And as I pressed each and everyone of them through the softly spiced pepparkaksdeg, I couldn’t help but think about the many Christmases these cutters had known. And just like that, a tradition-less recipe actually perpetuated one that I suspect lasted many decades and created a new tradition for us to hold over the coming years.

    Here is to the next first of advent!

    Pepparkakor

    I chose to make the lighter kind* of pepparkakor, one of many really. In some houses, the dough calls for whipping cream or baking powder. Muscovado sugar and treacle syrup. A pinch of cinnamon and a fat tablespoon of ground ginger.

    That day, I made the pepparkakor that I’d knew I’d love. Light and crisp with just enough bite to hold well when dipped in a cup of coffee – something I can only warmly recommend.

    I might try, next time I make a batch, to replace the caster sugar with light muscovado sugar or even brun farinsocker, a sugar that we have here in Sweden, and which is almost halfway between dark and light muscovado sugars; if you choose that road, you could most definitely substitute the caster sugar in the recipe below with 125 g dark muscovado and 100 g light muscovado.

    I will also perhaps replace the golden syrup for chestnut honey, as a reminiscence of my childhood pain d’épices (which I also need to tell you about).

    * Nowhere as light as they appear to be in the pictures I took here. Yes, I am still in dire need of figuring out this whole winter lighting thing.

    Pepparkakor

    Makes around 100 small biscuits.

    75 g water
    105 g golden syrup
    225 g caster sugar (read note above)
    175 g unsalted butter
    1 heaped tbsp ground cinnamon
    1 heaped tsp ground ginger
    3/4 tsp ground cardamom
    3/4 tsp ground cloves
    480 g plain flour
    1/2 tsp bicarbonate of soda
    1/4 tsp sea salt

    Bring the water, syrup, and sugar to the boil in a small pan. Off the heat, add the butter and spices, and allow to cool down to around 30-35°C.

    In a bowl, mix the flour, bicarbonate and salt.

    When the syrup has cooled down enough, slowly pour over the flour, and mix with a silicone spatula until a loose dough comes together.

    Place the dough onto a large piece of clingfilm, and flatten it into a square using the palm of your hand. Cover tightly with clingfilm, and refrigerate for at least 12 hours or up to a month.

    When you’re ready to bake your pepparkakor, take out your dough from the fridge and leave it at room temperature for 20-30 minutes.

    Preheat the oven to 200°C/fan 180°C.

    On a slighty floured surface, roll the dough to 3-4mm thick and cut out into the desired shapes. If you wish to hang your pepparkakor, make sure to cut a small hole before baking them.

    Arrange them onto baking trays lined with baking paper, and do not to mix the larger biscuits with the small ones as they won’t bake evenly.

    Bake for 5 to 8 minutes, depending on the size of the pepparkakor, or until the edges start to turn golden brown.
    When cooled down, decorate with royal icing if you wish, and store in an airtight container for up to a month.


    More Christmas adventures in the north of Sweden on Instagram: #fannysjul <3

  • My ultimate kanelbullar

    My ultimate kanelbullar

    Tomorrow is the 4th of October. A date that doesn’t go unnoticed in Sweden. Yes, tomorrow is kanelbullens dag [cinnamon roll day].
    I must have felt that this post – which I promised to share with you long before I even knew kanelbullar had their own day – was waiting in my drafts for a reason.

    This is a recipe I first made in Åsen, the summer before last. I kneaded the dough in the evening, as we came back from a day by the lake. And by the time breakfast was ready the next morning, the buns had proofed and were ready to go in the oven for a mid-morning fika.

    Later that day, I realised we’d forgotten my camera charger in Kusmark so I ended up taking some pictures using the film camera Kalle gave me.

    We rushed on the road to Mora – through the forests and the bridge that goes over the lake, through the little stress I’ve come to cherish and the rails by which we always get to see a train pass by – to bring the roll to the only lab we knew of.

    And because it was not fully exposed, I quickly took a few pictures of what was around me. In fact, the one below – of Kalle – is, to this day, one of my favourites.
    Yes, it’s not without a certain sense of both love and reserve that I’m proud to tell you that my 79th roll of film has pictures of bullar, one of K., one of the sky, and one of flowers. The dream roll?

    But let go back to that morning. When I rolled the dough and topped it with a thick layer of cinnamon butter. I don’t always say this, but salted butter really does wonder here.
    Yes, that morning, is to be forever remembered. The table covered in a thick layer of white paint. And the blue chairs around it. The spitting sound of the fire in the wood stove. This is where I learnt how to roll kanelbullar.

    A year has passed since then – days made of snow and walk through leafless trees, a spring that only lasted a second and a summer that is now starting to turn into autumn. Many more bullar have been rolled. At home. At the café.

    And while my rolling techniques have definitely improved, the recipe has received only a few tweaks. That’s how much I’m in love with it. And I hope you will be too.

    Kanelbullar, un peu comme des brioches

    I love my bullar to be soft and fluffy, so instead of using a traditional recipe (which I always find slightly dry), I go for a cross between a doughnut and a brioche dough.

    Although I’ve shared a recipe for kanelbullar in the past, these ones are different. They are my favourites. The ones I make at home and freeze into small plastic containers, ready to be thrown into a lunchbox or popped in the microwave for an almost-instant fika. The ones I make everyday at the café too (when I’m not off – and for the first time in a long time, I shall say: YES to the weekends).

    The old ones were of the spur-of-the-moment kind. Made late, during our last night in Sweden the first time we visited. Eaten by Byske river, just a few hours before our flight back to London. They had whole wheat flour and I remember how long it took to develop the gluten by hand.
    I also remember how wonderful it was to unwrap the not-so-neatly folded foil and dip them into a forever-hot cup of kokkaffe.

    Making a sticky dough by hand is always a challenge; it takes time, a good scraper and hands being cleaned every so often. But trust me, I’ve done it many times and it doesn’t only produce beautiful results, it’s also wonderfully relaxing.

    EDIT 5 October

    After a few of you reported butter leakage, I’ve noticed I had missed a modification, which I made a few months ago: I now use a reduced amount of butter in the dough – 130g instead of 200g; a leaner dough absorbs the butter better, but I couldn’t remember why I had reduced it as I love the texture of the buns made with 200g of butter so much!
    Thank you for your feedback! Also, make sure the bullar are proofed until doubled in size before baking them. It takes around 2 hours at 24°C but can take 3-4 hours if the room temperature is colder. Lots of love and sorry for the caramelised cinnamon butter 🙁

    EDIT 6 October

    I’ve tried both batches today, with 130g and 200g butter. While I love the texture of the buns with 200g of butter, they do leak during baking; a quick fix, if you’re after melt-in-your-mouth bullar, is to bake them in muffin paper-cases so you won’t end up with a puddle.
    As for the batch with 130g of butter, they’re a bit lighter and almost no butter leak 🙂 Sending you all my cinnamon-love X

    EDIT 8 December 2016

    After having made this recipe daily for well over a year, I think an update is in order.
    I have modified it slightly, mostly because I make it using 3.2 kg of flour, and that the flour here has a slightly higher absorption power.

    Here is my updated recipe:

    Kanelbullar 2.0

    Kanelbullar, un peu comme des brioches
    Every year, on the 4th of October, Sweden celebrates Kanelbullens dag: Cinnamon Bun Day. It feels like the perfect excuse to revisit one of my favourite recipes. These buns have been with me for over a decade now. The first version I baked in the summer of 2014 was a little more rustic.
    Since then, I’ve spent countless hours calculating baker’s percentages, testing variations and tweaking until I found what felt just right.
    What follows is my current go-to recipe (let’s call it version 2.0), followed by the 1.0 recipe for those who want to see where it all began.
    Author: Fanny Zanotti
    Prep Time1 hour 30 minutes
    Cook Time15 minutes
    Total Time1 day 1 hour 45 minutes
    Makes 14 buns

    Ingredients

    For the dough

    • 600 g flour
    • 75 g caster sugar
    • 18 g fresh yeast
    • 7.5 g sea salt
    • 4 g hand-ground cardamom
    • 225 g whole milk
    • 150 g eggs
    • 190 g unsalted butter

    For the filling

    • 190 g salted butter at room temperature
    • 150 g caster sugar
    • 3 tbsp ground cinnamon

    To top

    • 2 eggs beaten
    • pearl sugar

    For the syrup

    • 75 g caster sugar
    • 75 g water

    Instructions

    • In a large bowl, combine flour, sugar, yeast, salt, and cardamom. Add the eggs and milk. Mix until a dough forms.
    • Knead by hand for around 20 minutes, or in a stand mixer fitted with a dough-hook for about 10 minutes, until smooth, elastic, and just tacky. The dough should stretch into a thin membrane without tearing.
    • Add the butter gradually. By hand, work it in 3–4 additions, smearing and kneading until fully incorporated. In a mixer, add small pieces one by one. The dough will look split at first – keep going until smooth again.
    • Place in a large bowl, cover, and chill. Either proof 1 hour at room temperature, then refrigerate for 2 hours, or refrigerate straight away for at least 8 hours (and up to 24 hours).
    • The next day, line two trays with baking paper. Mix the filling ingredients until smooth.
    • On a lightly floured bench, roll the dough to a 30 × 60 cm rectangle, about 5–6 mm thick. Spread with cinnamon butter. Fold the dough into thirds (like a letter), giving you a rectangle about 30 × 20 cm.
    • Cut into 2 cm strips. Twist and tie each into a knot. Place on trays. Cover loosely and proof until doubled – around 2 hours.
    • Preheat oven to 200°C / fan 180°C. Brush the buns with egg wash, sprinkle with pearl sugar, and bake 12–16 minutes, until golden.
    • For extra shine, brush with hot syrup as soon as they come out of the oven. Cool slightly on a wire rack.

    Glad kanelbullens dag!

    The 1.0 recipe from my 2014 summer:
    For the dough
    530 g strong flour
    70 g caster sugar
    16 g fresh yeast
    10 g sea salt
    1 tsp ground cinnamon
    3 eggs
    (150 g)
    190 g whole milk
    130 g to 200 g (read note/edit above) unsalted butter
    , at room temperature

    For the cinnamon butter
    250 g salted butter, at room temperature
    170 g caster sugar
    3 tbsp ground cinnamon
    1 tsp ground cardamom

    For the topping
    1 egg, beaten, to glaze
    a handful of pearl sugar

    For the syrup
    75 g caster sugar
    75 g water