Tag: dough

  • New Orleans beignets of my dreams

    New Orleans beignets of my dreams

    I might have never been to New Orleans, but every time I make these beignets, I almost inevitably feel like I’m right in the heart of the French Quarter – where the air hums with music, and the scent of chicory coffee drifts from the iron-lace balconies.

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    New Orleans beignets

    Beignets – French for doughnuts – are made much like brioche. Flour, milk, eggs, sugar, yeast, and salt. A smooth dough, easy to work with.
    I like to place my shaped ones, ready for their final proof, onto parchment-lined trays, lightly sprayed with oil. And just before frying, I cut the paper into squares, each holding a beignet or two, and lower them into the hot oil, paper and all.
    They puff and turn golden in moments, crisp at the edges, impossibly light within. Straight from the fryer, they’re tossed in icing sugar, which melts into a delicate, fudgy glaze. Best eaten warm, while the sugar still clings to your fingertips.
    Bon Mardi Gras!!

    Notes

    On timing
    These beignets are best eaten the same day – preferably hot, fresh from the oil, when they’re at their lightest and crispest. If you need to plan ahead, you have two options: you can proof the dough overnight in the fridge, then shape, do the final rise, and fry the next day, which deepens the flavour and fits neatly into a morning schedule. Or, for a longer make-ahead option, freeze the shaped dough on a silicone mat until firm, then transfer to freezer bags, pressing out as much air as possible. When ready to fry, place the frozen beignets onto lightly greased baking trays, cover with clingfilm, and proof until doubled – around 4 hours (to account for the thawing time as well) – before frying as usual.
    On coating
    The traditional way to coat beignets is to toss them into a brown paper bag filled with icing sugar and give it a good shake – quick, effortless, and wonderfully nostalgic. A large bowl works just as well, allowing for a more controlled dusting, but either way, the goal is the same: a generous flurry of sugar while they’re still warm.
    Author: Fanny Zanotti
    Prep Time1 hour
    Cook Time30 minutes
    Total Time3 hours
    Makes 24 beignets

    Ingredients

    • 250 g whole milk
    • 2 eggs
    • 510 g plain flour
    • 55 g caster sugar
    • 20 g fresh yeast or 7g instant yeast
    • 3 g fine sea salt
    • 90 g salted butter thinly sliced
    • neutral oil for frying
    • 400 g icing sugar to coat

    Instructions

    • In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with a dough hook, add the milk, eggs, flour, sugar, yeast, salt, and butter. Knead on medium speed until smooth and elastic. The dough should pass the windowpane test.
    • Lightly spray a baking dish with cooking spray – my favourite is a 23×30cm Pyrex glass dish. Transfer the dough to the dish, turning it to coat the surface. Flatten it to fill the dish evenly, and cover with clingfilm.
    • Leave to rise in a warm place until nearly doubled in size, approximately 1 hour.
    • In the meantime, prepare 2 baking trays lined with parchment paper; spray lightly with cooking spray.
    • Lightly flour your work surface. Pat the dough into a slightly larger rectangle – around 2cm thick – and dust with a little flour.
    • Using a long knife, cut the dough into 24 pieces. Place them onto the prepared trays, loosely cover with clingfilm or clean kitchen towels, and leave to rise again for around 30 minutes.
    • While the beignets are rising, heat a generous amount of neutral oil in a deep-fryer or a heavy-bottomed pot to 180°C.
    • Put the icing sugar into a brown paper bag or a large bowl.
    • Fry 4–6 beignets at a time, turning with a metal spider or tongs, until deep golden brown, around 1-1½ minutes per side.
    • Transfer the hot beignets straight into the bag of icing sugar, close tightly, and shake well to coat. Place on a cooling rack over a tray. Repeat with the remaining beignets, adding more icing sugar as needed.
  • Buttermilk biscuits

    Buttermilk biscuits

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    Buttermilk biscuits

    Adapted from Sally’s Baking Recipes.
    This recipe is a staple in our home for late week-end breakfasts and quick school-night dinners. I love to serve them with bacon and fried eggs, and loads of freshly-sliced vegetables.
    They also make for a perfect afternoon fika, with whipped cream, jam, and fresh berries.
    As with every biscuit recipe, it is fundamental not to overmix the dough. I usually mix in the butter until rather large chunks are left, then add the buttermilk and mix until JUST combined.
    This produces very soft and flaky biscuits, exactly as they should be.
    Author: Fanny Zanotti
    Prep Time30 minutes
    Cook Time20 minutes
    Total Time50 minutes

    Ingredients

    • 310 g plain flour
    • 2 tbsp baking powder
    • 1 tbsp caster sugar
    • 1 tsp flaky sea salt
    • 120 g salted butter very cold and cubed
    • 240 ml cold buttermilk
    • whipping cream to brush

    Instructions

    • Preheat the oven to 220°C / fan 200°C. Line a baking tray with baking paper.
    • Make the dough. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, sugar, and salt. Add the cubed butter and rub it into the flour with your fingertips until the mixture resembles rolled oats.
    • Make a well in the centre, and pour in the buttermilk. Gently fold everything together with a spoon or spatula until it just starts to come together. The dough should look rough and slightly crumbly in places.
    • Tip the dough onto a floured surface and bring it together using your hands. Pat into a 2cm thick rectangle and do 3 consecutive letter folds, rotating the dough 90 degrees between each turn.
    • Cut the biscuits. Roll or pat the dough to 2cm thick, then cut into a 3x6cm biscuits. Gather any scraps, reshape, and cut out more until all the dough is used.
    • Bake. Arrange the biscuits close together on the prepared tray, so they support each other as they rise. Brush the tops with whipping cream, and bake for 15–18 minutes or until golden-brown.
  • Red kuri squash pie

    Red kuri squash pie

    The first frost has come, bringing with it days that call for a slice of something warm and spiced. There’s already a pumpkin pie on the blog, but this one feels different – gentler, perhaps, with golden sugar adding its quiet warmth to the filling. The pâte brisée, crisp and buttery, is a joy to work with, and I’ve shared a few notes to make handling it as simple as it is satisfying.

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    Red kuri squash pie

    A silky, spiced potimarron [red kuri squash] filling nestled in a buttery, päte brisée crust – this classic pie is autumn comfort at its finest. Best served with a dollop of lightly whipped cream and a dusting of cinnamon.

    Notes

    On squash/pumpkin purée: 
    I almost always make my own squash/pumpkin purée. This time, I used potimarron [red kuri squash], but pumpkin or butternut works just as well in this recipe. To do so, I simply cut the squash in half using a large serrated knife, scoop out the seeds, and place it cut-side down on a tray lined with baking paper. Bake at 175°C / fan 150°C until soft – you can test the doneness using a skewer.
    Once cooled, scoop out the flesh and purée it in a food processor until smooth. For this recipe, I like to cook the purée on the stove for a few minutes to reduce any excess water. This step ensures a thick, velvety filling that holds together beautifully when baked and concentrates the pumpkin’s natural flavour. 
    Mixing the dough in a food processor:
    If you prefer to use a food processor for the pâte brisée, pulse the flour, sugar, and salt together first. Then add the cold butter, pulsing until it resembles coarse crumbs. Finally, add the cold water gradually, pulsing just until the dough comes together. Be careful not to overmix – you want the dough to stay tender and flaky.
    Blending the filling:
    I’ve found the best way to make the pumpkin filling is by using a hand blender. It creates a beautifully smooth texture, but be sure to blend gently and avoid incorporating too much air. 
    More on blind baking: For detailed tips on how to blind bake your tart crust, take a look at my post on the subject here. I find that it’s best to blind-bake the tart case until golden.
    Author: Fanny Zanotti
    Prep Time1 hour
    Cook Time1 hour 20 minutes
    Total Time6 hours 20 minutes
    Makes 12 slices

    Ingredients

    For the pate brisée

    • 185 g plain flour
    • 2 tsp golden caster sugar
    • 1/2 tsp flaky sea salt
    • 115 g cold butter cut into 1cm cubes
    • 2.5 tbsp ice-cold water

    For the pumpkin filling

    • 420 g squash or pumpkin purée homemade or store-bought (see note above)
    • 145 g golden caster sugar
    • 1/2 tsp flaky sea salt
    • 2 tsp cinnamon
    • 1 tsp ground ginger
    • 1/4 tsp ground cloves
    • a pinch of nutmeg
    • 330 g whipping cream
    • 3 eggs

    Instructions

    Make the dough:

    • In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, and salt. Rub the butter into the mixture with your fingertips until it resembles coarse rolled oats, then stir in the cold water using a rubber spatula.
    • Turn the mixture onto a clean work surface and gently bring it together – avoid kneading. Pat into a disc about 2cm thick, wrap in clingfilm, and refrigerate for at least 1 hour or up to 2 days.

    Rolling out the pastry:

    • Butter a 23-25cm tart tin and set aside.
    • Lightly flour your work surface, then unwrap the chilled dough and place it on the floured surface. Dust the top of the dough and roll it out to a 3-4 mm-thick circle, roughly 10cm larger than your tart tin. I find it easier to start flattening the dough by making indents in it with my rolling pin, see note above.
    • Carefully roll the dough around the rolling pin and unroll it over the tart tin. Gently press it into the corners and sides so it fits snugly. To trim the edges, roll the pin over the top of the tin for a clean, even finish.
    • Place the prepared tart crust in the freezer for 15–30 minutes while preheating the oven to 200°C/180°C fan.

    Blind baking the tart crust:

    • Line the pastry with baking paper and fill it with raw rice or dried beans. Bake for 15 minutes, then remove the paper and weights. Bake for another 5 minutes, or until the base is lightly golden.

    Making the pumpkin filling:

    • While the crust bakes, prepare the filling.
    • In a medium saucepan, combine the suqash/pumpkin purée, sugar, salt, and spices. Cook over medium heat, stirring regularly, until it starts to bubble. Continue for 5 minutes to reduce excess moisture.
    • Remove from the heat and transfer to a bowl. Whisk in the cream until smooth, then mix in the eggs with a hand blender, being careful not to incorporate air.
    • When the crust is ready, reduce the oven temperature to 170°C/150°C fan. Pour the filling into the tart shell and bake for 45–55 minutes, or until the centre is set but still has a slight jiggle. A skewer inserted in the middle should come out clean.
    • Allow to cool completely for at least 4 hours before slicing. Serve with lightly whipped cream. A dusting of cinnamon or nutmeg is a lovely addition too!

    Follow along as I add the finishing touch – a dollop of lightly whipped cream to slices of spiced pumpkin pie.

  • Flour mixture protein calculator

    Flour mixture protein calculator

    It’s might have been many years since I earned my Master’s degree in Food Science and Product Development, but my passion for the science behind baking has never waned.

    As you know, I absolutely love to study recipes in depth; examining interactions between ingredients and experimenting with different ratios to create the PERFECt recipe.

    Lately, I’ve been playing with my croissant recipe. I recently read that Lune Croissanterie uses a targeted protein content of 12.3%, which is something I didn’t have in my pantry. What did I have: a plain flour with a protein content of 10% and a spring-wheat flour with a protein content of 13.6%.

    As a result, I found myself creating an Excel table to calculate which ratio I should use in my recipe to reach a protein content of 12.3%. And I thought you might like it too.

    Flour mixture protein calculator

    Download here: Flour mixture protein calculator.

    For recipes that require a specific protein percentage, it can be challenging to determine the correct amount of each flour to use. This is where an Excel table can be helpful, as it allows you to easily calculate the amount of each flour needed depending on their respective protein contents to achieve the desired target protein percentage.

    Here are step-by-step instructions on how to use the Excel table:

    1. Enter the protein content of both the flours you want to use in the BLUE cells.
    2. Enter the total amount of flour needed for your recipe in the “TOTAL FLOUR” GREEN cell.
    3. Enter your desired final protein percentage in the “Target Protein %” YELLOW cell.
    4. The Excel table will then automatically calculate the exact amount of each flour needed to reach the desired final protein percentage.

    Here is a preview:

    Download here: Flour mixture protein calculator.

  • 3:2:1 pie dough

    3:2:1 pie dough

    pie dough in a form

    I recently stumbled upon a new-to-me pie dough recipe thanks to the talented American baker, Cecilia Tolone, who has made Stockholm her new culinary playground.

    Cecilia, who previously worked as head pastry chef at the 3-Michelin-starred restaurant Frantzén, has since embarked on her own culinary adventures, which she chronicles in short vlogs. For one of her latest dinner parties, she made charming Västerbotten cheese quiches, baked in mazarin tartlet pans. The dough? A 3:2:1 pie dough that she calls “a classic ratio that every baker should know”. Of course, I can only agree.

    What struck me about this dough is its remarkable simplicity. The 3:2:1 ratio – with three parts flour, two parts fat, and one part water – creates a dough that is easy to work with and makes for a flaky pastry crust. It is also immensely versatile – add a couple of tablespoons of golden caster sugar when making a sweet tart, or maybe some finely chopped herbs and a handful of grated cheese for a quiche.
    Oh yes, the possibilities are endless!

    Of course, I couldn’t help but draw a comparison with a French classic, and perhaps the very first recipe my grand-mère ever taught me: pâte brisée.

    Now, don’t get me wrong, pâte brisée will always have its unreachable first-love status, with its indulgent, buttery flavor and delicate texture. But this 3:2:1 pie dough offers a simplicity that can’t get matched – and no eggs to separate!

    IngredientsPâte Brisée3:2:1 Pie Dough
    Plain Flour100%100%
    Salt1-2%1-2%
    Butter50%67%
    Egg Yolks8%0%
    Water25%33%

    This pie dough felt slightly flakier compared to pâte brisée. Let’s have a look at a few points:

    – fat content: the higher fat content in the 3:2:1 pie dough (67% fat) compared to pâte brisée (50% fat) contributes to a flakier texture. The fat creates pockets of air when it melts during baking, resulting in more layers.

    – water content: pâte brisée (25% water+8% egg yolks – for reference, egg yolk contain 45-50% water) has a slightly lower water content than 3:2:1 pie dough (33% water). This could explain why pâte brisée feels shorter and crumblier, as gluten development is reduced.

    – mixing technique: the mixing technique used for the 3:2:1 pie dough, which involves letting the butter in larger pieces, is one I will apply to pâte brisée in the future. Often, I will give the dough a single turn – when it isn’t quite a dough yet, more like a lumpy, floury mess -, as I find that it helps the dough come together and creates the flakiest pastry.

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    3:2:1 pie dough

    Adapted from Cecilia Tolone.
    This recipe is a wonderful base for all your tarts and pies. It makes for a great dough that's easy to work with, and a crisp and flaky pastry crust that is very versatile. Perfect for both sweet and savoury fillings!

    Notes

    As mentioned above, I almost always give the dough a single turn – when it isn’t quite a dough yet, more like a lumpy, floury mess -, as I find that it helps the dough come together and creates the flakiest pastry, not unlike a rough puff pastry. 
    Author: Fanny Zanotti
    Prep Time25 minutes
    Total Time4 hours 25 minutes
    Makes 1.2 kg dough, enough for 3x25cm pies

    Ingredients

    • 600 g plain flour
    • 400 g cold salted butter
    • 1/2 tsp sea salt
    • 200 g ice-cold water
    • butter extra to butter your tart pan

    Instructions

    • Start by grating the butter onto a piece of baking paper. it is easier to do so if the butter is really cold. Set aside in the fridge – or better yet, in the freezer – while you get on with the rest.
    • In a large bowl, mix the flour and salt together.
    • Add the grated butter to the flour mixture, and quickly mix it together using your hands. The mixture should be very coarse.
    • Add in the water, and mix until the dough just comes together. It should feel dry and lumpy.
    • Form the dough into a ball – sometimes, I will give the dough a single turn before it even comes together, read note above.
      And wrap in clingfilm. Chill in the fridge for at least one hour, or even better, overnight.
    • Once the dough is cold, generously butter your tart/pie pan and set aside. Lightly flour your work bench, and roll the dough out to the desired thickness. Line your prepared pan.
    • Chill in the freezer while you pre-heat your oven. This dough bakes beautifully at 200°C/fan 180°C.
  • Saffransmazariner

    Saffransmazariner

    [Saffron mazariner]

    Twelve weeks ago, almost to the second, Sienna was put on my chest; pink as a candy, eyes wide open. Twelve weeks that went quickly, and also, twelves weeks when winter came and went more times that I can count.

    There was the night we rushed to the maternity; the air suddenly so sharp we’d forgotten how it felt against our cheeks. There was the first snow, as early as the third of October, which was gone a few days later; and as it did, the longing for a winter as I had known it only became more intense with every morning that passed by without a snowflake. And then, one day, winter was here, not that it didn’t come without a warning.
    The afternoons by the river, frost on every branch. That Sunday when snowflakes were big as cotton balls. And the clear evening skies we had last week when the temperatures dropped to -20°C.

    In our kitchen, there is a bread made of rye and filmjölk [sour milk] on the counter. And every time we open the pantry, the earthy smell of saffron fills the room. We have blueberry cakelets in the fridge, and lussekatter in a jar above it. A mjukpepparkaka [gingerbread cake] on our table, and a baking tray filled with brown butter and cardamom salted caramel, waiting to be cut.

    Yes, there is so much I want to tell you about, but Christmas is only a few days away, and some things cannot wait, like these saffransmazariner.

    Saffransmazariner

    A mazarin is a tartlet traditionally composed of three elements:
    – a crisp pâte sablée case
    – an almond cream filling, not unlike the French crème d’amande
    – a simple icing sugar glaze

    Sometimes, a thin layer of jam covers the bottom of the tart shell, or the filling can be topped with fresh berries before baking, in which case, the mazarin isn’t glazed.

    Its origin – although I haven’t quite had the time to research – seems rather uncertain, possibly linked to an Italian cardinal who moved to Paris and first assisted Richelieu, only to succeed him in the mid seventeenth century.
    Through his regency, Cardinal Mazarin has been thought to popularise pasta and perhaps, other Italian delicacies in France and Sweden (which were rather new allies then). And although there is no evidence of it in literature, mazariner do strongly remind me of the traditional crostata di mandorle, a very similar tart from Italy.

    My saffron mazariner are the festive version of the Swedish favourite. You see, I have the bad habit to buy mazarinformar [mazarin moulds] at every garage sale; so really, I’m always looking for an excuse to bake them under one form or another.
    You can use any tartlet moulds, ideally around 5-6cm in diameter, but in a pinch, I suspect a muffin tin will do fine too. A large mazarin, sliced in thin wedges would also look fantastic on a cake stand!

    The dough – my usual pâte sablée, with a touch of baking powder for an extra brittle shell – will make more than you need, but you can:
    – do as I usually do and line additional moulds (around 40), and keep them in the freezer for up to two months
    – freeze the extra dough, which you can later use to line a 24cm tart tin
    I tend to make it in the food-processor, but a stand-mixer works too. As always, I can only recommend rolling it before letting it to rest in the fridge; however this dough is quite forgiving, and when I don’t want to use up a lot of baking paper or if I’m feeling lazy, I will wrap the dough in clingfilm, and chill it for 20-30 minutes, then roll it onto a lightly floured bench. For more tips on how to handle tart dough, please refer to these posts here.

    Mazariner freeze beautifully. On the day you want to eat them, simply take them out for a few hours, and glaze them with a simple icing sugar glaze.

    Saffransmazariner

    Makes 28

    For the pâte sablée

    360 g plain flour
    90 g icing sugar
    1/2 tsp sea salt
    1/4 tsp baking powder
    200 g unsalted butter
    100 g eggs (2 medium)

    butter, melted to grease the moulds

    For the saffron filling

    150 g unsalted butter
    1 g ground saffron
    300 g good quality marzipan (minimum 50% almonds), coarsely grated
    100 g eggs (2 medium)
    1/2 tsp sea salt
    10 g plain flour (approx. 1 tbsp)

    For the glaze

    250 g icing sugar
    water from the kettle

    Make the dough. In the bowl of a food-processor, place the flour, sugar, salt, baking powder and butter, and mix until the mixture ressembles wet sand. Add the eggs and pulse until it just starts to form a dough.
    Divide the dough in two and roll each piece to 3-4mm thick between two sheets of baking paper. Place onto a tray and chill in the fridge for 20-30 minutes.

    In the meantime, preheat the oven to 175°C/fan 160°C, and brush 28 (or more, read note above) tartlet moulds with melted butter; setting them aside until needed.

    Make the filling. Melt the butter in a small pan and add the saffron. Mix well and allow to infuse for a few minutes.
    Place the marzipan, eggs, salt and flour in the bowl of a food-processor and mix to a smooth paste. Slowly add the butter, mixing as you do so.
    Transfer the filling to a piping bag.

    Take the dough out of the fridge and loosen the top sheet of baking paper. Flip over and remove the other sheet, this way, the dough still is on baking paper, yet doesn’t stick to it (I hope that makes sense).
    Cut out the dough into small ovals or circles, depending on the shape of your tins, and line each with dough, trimming the excess using your thumb or a small paring knife.

    Place the lined moulds onto a baking tray, and fill them with your saffran almond cream, around 3/4 full.

    Bake for 20-25 minutes or until golden brown. Allow to cool down for 10-15 minutes, then unmould.

    Mix the icing sugar with a drop of hot water, just enough to form a thick paste, and spoon on top of the mazariner. Allow to set for an hour or two, then store in an airtight container for up to five days. You can also freeze the unglazed mazariner for up to 3 months (see note above).

  • Pastry chef tips – Tour double

    Pastry chef tips – Tour double

    Single fold? Double fold?

    When it comes to laminated doughs, you find two types of tours (literally turns, although I tend to refer to them as folds in English): the tour simple – or single fold – and the tour double – otherwise known as double fold.

    I’m planning on making a post describing both types, along with some notes; but today’s pastry chef tip is all about double folds.
    On the diagram below – representing both single and double folds – you’ll find the classic double fold most books and online resources will use: the dough gets “sectioned” in quarters, both ends gets folded over the centre “spine”, and finally, to complete the double fold, the dough gets folded in half.

    The tip

    Today’s tip is the proof that something simple can have a tremendous impact; the beauty of pâtisserie really.

    I might be wrong, but I like to think that this tip was given to me by Graham Hornigold – a sensational pastry chef and even better human being who is very dear to my heart, yes, he’s the best – in our basement prep-kitchen at the Mandarin Oriental too many years ago. Thank you Graham!

    When doing a double fold, slightly offset the centre “spine” to your right as shown on the diagram below:

    Then proceed as normal:
    1. Fold the right end toward the offset centre “spine”.
    2. Fold the left end to meet the first fold.
    3. Fold the dough in half to complete the tour double.

    The reason behind it

    The “spine”, as I like to call it, where both ends meet is traditionally at the centre of the rolled-out pâton. But when you fold the dough in half to complete the tour, the two ends separate slightly due to the physical action of folding, leaving a thin gap with only one layer of dough instead of two.

    By offsetting the “spine”, you ensure that all parts of the dough get laminated, creating a dough with consistent and continuous lamination.

    One of our readers, Martin, has a very interesting insight in the comments
    Offset folding also helps by moving two of the less well laminated edges into the centre mass of the sheet. If you fold in the regular style, the poorer lamination is never adjusted and remains on the outer rim of the dough.

    Notes and resources

    -I like to trim the ends, again, to ensure a consistent lamination; but more on that later in another pastry chef tip!

    – Always gently brush off excess flour before completing the folds.

    – As I’ve mentioned it above, I’m also working on a more general article about lamination, but in the meantime, this post about cinnamon croissants contains many of my tips (and the most wonderful breakfast one could ever have).

    – My absolute favourite printed ressource: Advanced Bread and Pastry, by Michael Suas.

    – More laminated dough posts and recipes.

  • On pâte sucrée (and my favourite lemon meringue tart)

    On pâte sucrée (and my favourite lemon meringue tart)

    I intended for today’s post to be short – almost-wordless short. Really, it was just meant to be a recipe that I developed for a nut-free pâte sucrée.
    And that what it is, in essence. With a few notes around it.

    In France – or at least at the pâtisseries where I worked, and in books and magazines – pâte sucrée will always call for ground almonds (or some other kind of ground nuts, depending on the finished tart). This gives the dough a short, crumbly texture, and a wonderful roasted aroma. No questions asked.
    But here in Sweden, I’ve found that many people have food allergies, so I’ve had to improvise. And after many trials, I’ve finally worked out a nut-free recipe that I’m happy with, and that stands against the pâte sucrée I grew up making.

    Now, I could tell you a few stories about chefs that I worked with in London and their relationships with customers who have allergies or dietary requirements. But I think it would be 1) too mind-your-French kinda stories and 2) too long to tell them all.
    I must, however, share my favourite of all. Picture a couple of vegetarians asking about options in a very meaty menu. All I heard in response went along the lines of: “Do I go in a *insert swear-word of your choice* vegetarian restaurant and ask for a *insert swear-word of your choice* rib-eye?”.
    Of course, a beautiful vegetarian tasting menu was promptly made, but this sentence somehow stuck with me, and I love to remember it fondly every now and then, and of course, to tell it to anyone who cares enough (or not) to listen.

    The recipes

    Pierre Hermé

    This is the recipe that I started with. It’s absolutely beautiful – a given when it comes to Pierre Hermé, really.
    However, over the years, I’ve come to adapt it into an easier-to-work with dough; which to this day remains my standard and usual recipe.

    Pierre Hermé’s pâte sucrée

    300 g unsalted butter
    190 g icing sugar
    60 g ground almonds
    1 tsp sea salt
    seeds from 1 vanilla bean
    100 g eggs
    500 g plain flour


    My favourite

    This recipe, which I think stems from a combination of Pierre Hermé’s, Valrhona and a few tweaks here and there, is as its name reveals without a hint of suspense, my favourite.
    It’s one I can make with my eyes and my recipe notebook closed.

    Of course, I always make a much bigger batch, somewhere along x5.5, which gives me enough to dough to roll fourteen 28.5x45cm sheets (a format, rather than being practical, obeys the rule of the baking paper that we have in kitchens: 45x57cm, which religiously gets cut in half in the morning, forming large piles that fit into gastros and baking trays, and lasts us through the day).
    For those of you wondering about regularity of thickness between sheets, read further down to Notes, where you’ll find the answer.

    Fanny’s favourite pâte sucrée

    255 g unsalted butter
    190 g icing sugar
    70 g ground almonds
    1 tsp sea salt
    seeds from 1 vanilla bean
    100 g eggs
    510 g plain flour


    A nut free alternative

    When I realised many people here had food allergies, it made me question everything I had learn, heard or done in the past.
    In France, at least, back when I was living there, very few pâtisseries catered to dietary requirements; yes, [to be said with a French accent] eat the tart or don’t. It was not something I’ve ever seen anyone – chefs or customers – think about, let alone be concerned.

    In Sweden, it’s on the literal opposite of the spectrum, so much, that I always make sure to have at least three or four gluten-free options, two dairy-free alternatives, a couple of nut-free pastries, and a lactose-free crème brûlée (flavoured with tonka bean at the moment, because I think tonka and winter were always meant).
    And this is why I had to give up my favourite pâte sucrée. I started working on a recipe, with mixed results – from my perspective only judging by how quick the lemon tarts sell out every time I put them in the display.

    But after a few batches, I found the one that I’ve now been using for the past few months. A crisp, golden-brown crust that stays so.

    Fanny’s nut-free pâte sucrée

    280 g unsalted butter
    180 g icing sugar
    1 tsp sea salt
    seeds from 1 vanilla bean
    100 g eggs
    40 g egg yolks
    545 g plain flour

    The process

    If you’ve never made pâte sucrée before, I can only recommend you to head over to my old blog foodbeam, where you’ll find a detailed step-by-step.

    Or simply follow this process:
    1. In the bowl of a stand-mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream the cold butter (see note n°1 below), icing sugar, ground almonds (if using), salt, and vanilla, until just smooth.
    2. Add the eggs (and yolk for the nut-free recipe) one at a time, mixing well after each addition, a minute or so. If making a larger batch, the eggs can be added a couple at a time.
    3. Mix in the flour (read note n°2 below if making a larger batch) and work on low speed until just combined.
    4. Divide the dough into three pâtons, roughly 350-360g each. Flatten each onto a feuille guitare (cf note n°3) using the palm of your hand and top with another feuille. Roll, always from the centre upwards, giving the dough a quarter turn every time, into a large disk, around 3-4mm thick. Place the dough onto a baking tray and set aside. Repeat with the other two pâtons; and either freeze for up to two months, or chill in the fridge for at least two hours or for up to a week.
    If making a bigger batch, please refer to note n°4.
    5. Line your tart ring and chill or freeze for an hour or two. Blind bake (see ressources below for a link to one of my posts “A few notes on blind-baking”).

    Notes

    N°1. The butter does not need to be at room temperature as many recipes might suggest. Yes, it makes for an easier mixing (especially by hand, which I suspect this rather obsolete step comes from) but it also makes the water contained in the butter more available to bind with the flour proteins, hence developing gluten more than cold butter would.
    The quick mixing of the cold butter with the sugar acts as a mechanical (as opposed to physical) softener. And before you know it, you’ll have a smooth paste, ready to receive the eggs.

    N°2. If making a large batch – larger than 5 kilograms in total weight – I’d recommend adding around 10% of the flour to the butter/sugar/egg mixture and working on low speed until incorporated; and then adding the remaining flour and mixing until just combined. Never overwork the dough as it would make the tart shell tough instead of crisp and crumbly.

    N°3. Feuille guitare, litterally guitar-leaf, is a transparent polyethylene/acetate film that is somewhat rigid. Although it can be replaced by baking paper, I would – if given the choice – always use it to roll dough. It prevents the formation of creases in the dough (which could later results in cracks during baking) and yes, it looks neat.
    They are also amazing for chocolate décors, which i could show you if you’re interested (let me know!).

    N°4. When I make a x5.5 batch, I divide the dough into 14 pieces, around 450g each. And then roll them into 28.5x45cm sheets, making sure to trim the edges into a neat rectangle. This way, I can store my dough in the freezer in an airtight plastic gastro, and take out sheets when I’m making a tart shell mise-en-place.
    By weighing each pâtons and rolling to the exact same size every time, I ensure an even thickness throughout the batch. This produces a dough that bakes uniformly, making sure all the tartelettes on one baking tray will be ready at the same time.

    N°5. My absolute favourite rings when it comes to tarts are not the traditional tart rings that have rolled edges. I like simple entremet rings from Matfer. They’re 35mm-high and are completely smooth, with no welding mark.
    I find that with 35mm-high rings, I get more use out of them. If I want to make a 2cm-high tart, then I simply cut a 2cm strip of dough that will become the edges of the tart. However, if I’d like to make a deeper tart, perhaps chocolate or pecan, then I simply line the ring up to its rim.
    I know DeBuyer has recently come up with perforated rings in collaboration with Valrhona; and although I’ve tried them a couple of times, with great results in term on crumb texture and even baking, I don’t really like the marks they leave on the outer edge of the tart case.

    N°6. I always bake my tarts onto Silpain – a variation oriented for bread bakers of the now-famous Silpat. I find that it gives the quickest and most even baking.

    La cerise Le citron sur le gâteau [The cherry lemon on top]

    Just like I did in Paris Pastry Club (almost its two-year birthday!!), I can’t resist to share the lemon tart recipe that has followed me for years – despite the MANY other lemon curds that I’ve tried to like. Of course, it’s from Pierre Hermé. And really, trust me, it’s the best you could, and will, ever make.

    The recipe will leave you with some extra lemon curd – that always tend to disappear on top of ice-cream if my mum and sister are around. Or you could also, divide what’s left in piping bags, tie them tighly and freeze for up to 2 months.

    Tarte au citron meringuée

    Makes one 24cm tart, serving 12-16.

    one 24cm blind-baked tart shell, using the pâte sucrée of your choice (or as I do in my book a lemon shortbread topped with a lemon sponge).

    For the lemon curd
    240 g caster sugar
    zest from 3 lemons
    200 g eggs
    140 g lemon juice     (around 3 large lemons)
    300 g butter, cubed, at room temperature

    Place the sugar and lemon zest in a large bowl, and rub the zest in the sugar for a minute or two. This step, although optional, diffuses the fragrant lemon oils into the sugar, resulting in a deeply flavoured and more complex lemon curd.
    Whisk in the eggs (I like to handblend the eggs before adding them to the sugar as I find it gives the smoothest texture) and the lemon juice.
    Set the bowl over a pan of simmering water and cook the lemon curd until it reaches 81°C, stirring every minute or so.
    remove the bowl from the bain-marie and allow to cool down to 55-60°C. Then whisk in the butter, one cube at a time. Handblend the curd for 6 minutes then pass through a fine-mesh sieve into a plastic container.
    Clingfilm to the touch and chill in the fridge for at least 4 hours or better yet, overnight.

    When ready to assemble the tart, make the Italian meringue.

    For the Italian meringue
    100 g egg whites
    1/2 tsp sea salt
    200 g caster sugar
    60 g water

    Place the egg whites and salt in the bowl of a stand-mixer fitted with the whisk attachment.
    Place the sugar and water in a small pan, and bring to the boil over medium heat.
    When the syrup reaches the boil, start whisking the egg whites on medium speed.
    Cook the syrup to 118°C and pour over the soft peaks egg whites, making sure to run the syrup along the sides of the bowl to avoid it from splashing around the bowl.
    Increase the speed slightly and keep on whisking until the meringue feels barely warm.

    In the meantime, pipe a generous layer of lemon curd into your blind-baked tart shell using a piping bag fitted with a 12mm nozzle.
    Pipe the meringue on top into a pattern, or simply pile it on and swirl. Burn using a blowtorch, making sure to rotate the tart to get every nook and cranny.

    Ressources

    – The way I roll pâte sucrée.
    – Where to buy feuilles guitare? They deliver in the north-north of Sweden, so I assume the rest of the world is ok!
    – A few notes on blind-baking tart shells.
    – My absolute favourite not-for-tarts-tart-rings: Matfer entremet rings (24cm for 14-16 portions or 8cm for indivdual tartelettes). For comparison: traditional tart rings. The DeBuyer/Valrhona perforated rings.

  • 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:

    PRINT

    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

  • Pastry chef tips – Flatten the dough with the palm of your hand

    Pastry chef tips – Flatten the dough with the palm of your hand


    More often than not, I always share tips and techniques in my posts. Why clingfilm to the touch, how to fold cream when making a mousse, how to get a neat crack on top of a loaf, how to blindbake tarts, and so on.

    But since so many of you requested, I thought I’d start a new feature* where I give you not-so-secret tips from a pastry chef. I’ve found over the years, that it – almost always – gets down to these little things. Yes, they usually make all the difference.

    Today, as I was rolling some craquelin (a thick dough made of butter, demerara sugar and flour; and used to top choux before baking – but more on that soon!) I realised there is one thing I always do when rolling dough; and yet, I haven’t told you about it before. Read more…

  • La tarte tropézienne

    La tarte tropézienne

    There is the sound of the icebergs bumping into each other with every wave, not unlike a distant thunderstorm. There is the forest that I’ve walked through so many times before, now covered in a thick blanket of snow. There are lakrits [liquorice] cookies in the oven. And lights by every window we see.

    Yes, this is it. Sweden.

    And really, it’s just as wonderful in the vinter [winter] as it’s ever been in the sommar [summer].

    What’s up with the Swedish words? Well, I need to learn. And if I was ever able to speak English by writing about food back-back-back in the days. I’m hoping the same will – almost magically – happen with Swedish.
    But I’ve found some amazing companions. Just yesterday, I saw Donal on television. Perfect accent and all. And today, I went to buy Linda’s beautiful baking books, which I’m utterly in love with.

    In fact, I’ve been keeping an eye on every blueberry bush – how wonderful it is to walk surrounded by blåbär och lingon [blueberries and lingonberries] – waiting, very impatiently, for summer to make blåbärssylt [blueberry jam], blueberry crumble tartlets and Linda’s blåbärsrutor [literally, blueberry squares/boxes].

    The tartes tropéziennes here have barely anything to do with it all. Perhaps that’s why it took me so long to tell you about them.
    But when Karl ate one, he said they reminded him of semla. So there is that. And I might have to make some semla inspired tarte tropézienne very soon.

    La tarte tropézienne
    Adapted from Paris Pastry Club.

    Back when I was a child, you could only buy a tarte tropézienne in St Tropez. We would drive through les Maures, a natural reserve not unlike the savanna. The road meandered between cork oaks and arbousiers [strawberry trees].

    It was the late 80s and St Tropez still had a fishing village vibe to it. Nothing compared to what it once was, yet nothing compared to what it’s now become.

    We would walk along the port, and through the market. Sometimes, we’d go up to the fort, the best view over the gulf.
    And, before we’d leave, we’d always stop at the boulangerie to get a tropézienne. A brioche filled with crème madame – pastry cream with butter and whipped cream; delicately flavoured with orange blossom.

    When I wrote Paris Pastry Club, more than gimmicky or trendy recipes, I wanted to share my absolute favourite basics. Ones you can tweak endlessly, creating an amazing répertoire of recipes to call your own.
    And when I see all your beautiful creations on instagram or on your blogs, I’m blown away. And so so so proud to inspire you – at least a little, with my words.


    These tartes tropéziennes are just this.
    A tweak on two recipes from my book. The brioche, also known as the last brioche recipe you’ll ever need, and the crème mousseline, turned crème madame for the occasion, from the fraisier (and please, as soon as the strawberries will actually taste like they should, please, make one on a Saturday, and have it for Sunday lunch, trust me on that).


    A few notes on the brioche:
    – I made half a batch in my stand mixer without problems, but it did take a little longer than the usual double batch. If I were you, I’d make a double batch, use half for tropézienne buns and shape the other half into a loaf, which you can then bake, slice and freeze for instant morning happiness.
    – Here I’ve used T55 flour, but you could also use plain flour, although make sure the protein content of your flour is around 10-12g per 100g of flour.
    The higher the protein content, the stronger the flour is, which means it has more gluten. I’ve found that for brioche, I like to use flours with eleven percents of proteins.
    – When you knead the dough, I recommend doing the windowpane test after around ten minutes. It’s kneaded enough wuen you can stretch a walnut-sized piece into a very thin membrane without it tearing apart. This stage is called full gluten development, and for my brioche recipe, it’s usually reached after 10-12 minutes of kneading in the stand mixer on medium speed. If the dough tears when you try to stretch it, simply knead for a couple more minutes before testing it again.


    – Balling the dough isn’t only done to shape it. It’s an essential step to even the distribution of gluten strands, creating a tension layer, and making sure that no large air bubbles are formed.
    To ball the dough correctly, start by portioning your brioche in even piece (I like to weigh them out so that they will proof/bake evenly). Once you have divided your dough, dip the top side in flour and dust off any excess. Place the unfloured side down on a clean work surface and roll gently with the palm of your hand in a circular motion so that the outer layer of the dough stretches into a smooth ball.

    A few notes on the crème madame:
    – Crème madame is a crème pâtissière to which butter and whipped cream have been added. It should be firm and glossy, and will set into a rich cream.
    Really, crème madame = crème mousseline + whipped cream = (crème pâtissière + butter) + whipped cream.
    – I’ve been writing a post about basic pâtisserie creams which should be published very soon.
    – For a detailed step-by-step how to make crème pâtissière, please check this article.
    – When making crème mousseline, start by creaming the butter using the paddle attachment of your stand-mixer until light and fluffy. Then add the cold crème pâtissière in batches, beating well after each addition. If the butter has seized a little, simply place the bowl on top of a pan of simmering water for a few seconds before beating for a minute or two; or use a blowtorch to heat the sides of your bowl. Repeat until all the butter has disappeared and you’re left with a gorgeously thick crème mousseline.
    If you overheat the mousseline, it will become somewhat runny. Place in the fridge for a couple of hours, then beat for five minutes using the whisk attachment of your stand-mixer.

    La tarte tropézienne

    makes 8 individual tropéziennes
    For the brioche
    275 g T55 flour
    30 g vanilla sugar
    one tsp sea salt
    1/2 tsp instant yeast
    3 eggs
    30 g whole milk
    one tbsp orange blossom water
    160 g butter    , thinly sliced

    one egg, beaten, for egg wash
    200 g pearl sugar, to sprinkle

    For the crème pâtissière
    500 g whole milk
    3 vanilla pods
    4 egg yolks
    150 g caster sugar
    50 g cornflour
    1 tsp orange blossom water

    For the crème madame
    600 g crème pâtissière (above)
    150 g butter, at room temperature
    100 g 35% cream, whipped to stiff peaks

    For the syrup
    100 g water
    70 g caster sugar
    one tbsp orange blossom water

    If you have a stand-mixer, fit the dough hook and mix the flour, salt and vanilla sugar together on slow speed. Add the instant yeast. Then pour in the milk, the eggs and the orange blossom water.
    Switch to medium speed and knead for 10 minutes, or until the dough can be stretched without breaking. Scrape the sides of the bowl every now and then to ensure everything is amalgamated.
    Alternatively, mix the ingredients by hand then turn out onto a floured work surface and knead until the dough can be stretched without breaking.
    Now, add the butter, one piece at a time, and when almost all of it is in, increase the speed and knead until smooth (or knead by hand). The dough should stop sticking to the side of the bowl (or work surface) and should be silky and very smooth, although somewhat tacky.

    Transfer the dough into a plastic container, clingfilm to the touch, and chill in the fridge overnight.

    Make the crème pâtissière.
    Bring the milk and vanilla pods and seeds to a rolling boil in a medium pan set over moderate heat.
    In a separate bowl, whisk the egg yolks and sugar to prevent the egg yolks from clumping. Add the cornflour and mix well until combined. When the milk has boiled, remove from the heat and pour a third of it over the egg mixture, whisking as you do so. This step is key when making crème pâtissière as it loosens the egg yolks but also tempers them, avoiding any lumps .
    Pour all of the egg mixture back into the pan, return to the heat and cook slowly, whisking at all times until it starts to thicken and boil.
    Once it has bubbled for a few minutes, transfer to a plastic container and clingfilm to the touch to avoid the formation of a skin. Chill in the fridge for overnight.

    Make the orange blossom syrup. Bring the sugar and water to the boil. Allow to cool down slightly, then add the orange blossom water. Reserve at room temperature overnight.

    The next day, scrape the dough from the container onto a clean and lightly floured work surface, gently press to degaz, and divide in eight 75g squares.
    Ball each square, then roll into a 1cm-high disk, roughly 8cmm wide.

    Arrange the disks of brioche onto a baking tray lined with baking paper. Cover loosely with a lightly oiled double layer of clingfilm; and proof until doubled in size.

    Preheat the oven to 200°C.
    Brush the brioche with the beaten egg, then generously sprinkle with the pearl sugar. Bake for 15-17 minutes, or until golden brown.
    Allow to cool down completely.

    In the meantime, make the crème madame.
    Cream the butter until light and fluffy. Add the crème pâtissière, one third at a time, beating well after each addition. Once all of the crème pâtissière has been added, beat for 5 minutes. The mousseline should be firm and glossy.
    If the butter has seized a little, simply place the bowl on top of a pan of simmering water for a few seconds before beating for a minute or two; or use a blowtorch to heat the sides of your bowl. Repeat until all the butter has disappeared and you’re left with a gorgeously thick crème mousseline.
    Finally, gently fold in the whipped cream.
    Place this crème madame in the fridge to firm up slightly for an hour or so.

    Once the brioches have cooled down, slice them in half with a large bread knife and generously brush the cut-side with syrup.

    Transfer the crème madame into a piping bag fitted with a 10mm nozzle and pipe the cream around the rim of the bottom brioches, then pipe a large ball in the centre.
    Top each brioches with their matching “hats”.

    Keep in the fridge, loosely covered with clingfilm for at least 4 hours or overnight.

  • A few notes on blind-baking tarts

    A few notes on blind-baking tarts

    Butter the rings

    I like to butter my rings before lining with dough. It will slide down the ring more easily and won’t ever ever stick to it once baked.

    How to roll and cut the dough

    These days I always roll my dough in betwen two sheets of feuille guitare, a thin acetate. If you can get your hands on it, it’s much better than baking paper, as the dough won’t crease.

    If I’m using pâte sucrée or as I show you here my favourite biscuit dough (any kind of soft dough that patches well, really; I can’t think of any aside from pâte brisée or feuilletée), I like to cut strips to the height I want my tart to be and a disk for the bottom.
    This is way easier to handle and creates a flawless tart case with perfect corners.

    To calculate how long the strips that goes around the ring should be, it’s very simple.

    circumference = diametre x 3.14

    And then, for the bottom-disk: just cut it one cm smaller than your ring.

    To line the ring, simply place the strip of dough on the inside, sealing with your fingers where the two ends meet. And then place the disk of dough in the centre, pushing it slightly so that it reaches the sides. Run your finger to smooth out and seal.

    Blind-baking with clingfilm

    I usually go for clingfilm whenever I’m blind-baking a large tart (bigger than 10cm-wide), as it’s the most convenient.
    Simply layer two large pieces of clingfilm, smoothing out with a tea towel, then place over your unbaked tart case and add rice or pulses up to the rim. Press with your hands to compress your baking weights, making sure they go well into the corners of your tart. Loosely close your clingfilm. If you wrap it too tight, the clingfilm as it shrinks a little with the heat, won’t be in contact with the sides of your tart anymore.

    This technique is amazing as it bakes the dough much more evenly than any other. But it can be a bit of a pain at times, with the clingfilm breaking and spilling rice everywhere. Yes, it’s happened before 😉

    Blind-baking with cupcake papers

    This is my go-to method, one that I learnt at Pierre Hermé, back in 2007. Using your fingers you “break” cupcake paper so that they are the size of your ring. Fill with rice or pulses. And you’re pretty much set. It’s incredibly easy, reusable for almost-ever and the fastest.

    This method has only one downside: it will leave imprints on the baked tart case.

    The baking temperature

    At the restaurant I always go for 155°C, but at home, in my not so amazing oven, I’ve found that 165°C works perfectly.
    Of course it also depends on the kind of dough you’re using. The best is to experiment, until you’re happy with the results.

    As a general rule though, 150-160°C for fan-assisted ovens, and 165-170°C for traditional ovens.

    Peel your tart

    This is my absolute favourite trick to make tart cases neater than neat. Simply trim any bits of dough that might have popped out a little out from the rings, either at the base or the top with a peeler.

    Do this when your tart case is completely cold. And ever so gently.

    Ceramic baking weights?

    No thank you. They’re too big: don’t get in the corners. Too heavy: break the delicate structure of your dough, leave imprints. Too expensive.

    If you have any other question, please leave me a comment and I’ll try to answer. Also, if there is any technique or ingredient you would like to see broken down, tell me. x