Tag: recipes

  • Biscuits croustillants à la cannelle

    Biscuits croustillants à la cannelle

    [Crisp cinnamon biscuits]

    I don’t want fig leaf or oak bark infusion. I don’t want gimmicks and royal icing where it’s not needed. I want to explore flour, sugar, butter and eggs.

    Give me cinnamon. And whole wheat flour. Oats. And dark brown sugar.

    I want to look underneath a biscuit. And see a golden colour. And little ridges. And above all, I want to build a collection of solid recipes for the years to come. For traditions that don’t exist yet, but will. And for those that are already there.

    Yes, at times, I love to experience with crazy flavours. The next big thing. Or more. But as I’ve told you yesterday, for me, Christmas is all about rituals and beautiful habits. I hope you feel the same way.

    Biscuits croustillants à la cannelle
    Adapted from Trine Hahnemann.

    When it comes to a biscuit texture you can get: crisp, crunchy, sandy/short, caky or chewy. These ones are full-on crisp. A beautiful texture which makes them – perhaps – the best biscuits I’ve ever eaten.
    So much, in fact, that this year, I’ve decided to forgo my usual vanilla shortbreads and use this recipe as a base instead. Maybe try different shapes, perhaps even thumbprint cookies and see how that goes.

    I think their insane texture comes from the initial sanding technique, when the butter gets rubbed into the flour and sugar, which created beautiful layers within the biscuit. So I might experiment with this instead of the usual creaming that most of my biscuit recipes use.
    They also make me want to try more of Trine’s recipes. Have you ever? If not, then please, make a batch of these.

    As I usually do, I rolled the dough between two sheets of baking paper (but as I mentioned yesterday, it makes me miss the feuilles guitare I use at the restaurant, SO. MUCH. BETTER.) as soon as it gets made, and then go on with the chilling. I’ve found that resting the dough before rolling doesn’t improve the texture, and really, makes it so hard to roll that you have to 1) bash it with a rolling pin to make it somewhat workable or 2) let it outside to warm up a bit (hence, erasing all the benefits of keeping the dough cold at all times: making the water content of the butter less available for gluten to bind).

    Two or three important things though when it comes to rolling the dough.
    – always roll in different directions.
    – every now and then, lift the baking paper and smooth any wrinkles out. They tend to make the dough fragile and the biscuits less pretty.
    – before you cut out your biscuits, remove the top layer of baking paper, then place it back (it won’t stick as much), before filliping around and removing the second layer of baking paper. This way, as you cut out, the shapes will stay in your cutter, instead of sticking to the paper (hope that makes a semblance of sense at all?!).

    Also, re-rolling the trimming? I would usually say it’s a big no. But f*ck it, it’s home baking after all.

    Biscuits croustillants à la cannelle

    makes around 30-40 biscuits

    For the dough
    375g plain flour
    125g light soft brown sugar
    1 tsp baking powder
    1 tsp ground cinnamon
    1/2 tsp sea salt
    250g cold butter    , cubed
    one egg

    For the sugar topping
    one egg, beaten
    100 g demerara sugar
    4 tsp ground cinnamon
    gold shimmer powder    , optional

    Mix the sugar, cinnamon, and gold shimmer (if using) to combine.

    Place the flour, sugar, baking powder, cinnamon and salt in a large bowl, and mix to combine. Add the butter, and rub it in the flour mix until it resembles coarse oats. Add the egg and work the dough until just smooth.
    Roll the dough between two sheets of baking paper until it’s around 4-5mm thick.
    Place on a baking tray that fits in your fridge, if the dough is too large, you can cut through the paper to make two or more rectangles. Chill the dough overnight.

    The next day, cut out your biscuits using either a round 5cm cutter or different shapes, and place on a large sheet of baking paper. Brush with the beaten egg and sprinkle generously with the cinnamon sugar. Shake off the excess and place on a baking tray lined with paper. At this point you can either freeze the biscuits for a month or so, or bake them straight away.

    Preheat the oven to 170°C. Bake the biscuits for 14-18 minutes, depending on their size. They’re ready when evenly brown. Allow to cool down completely and keep in an airtight container. Trine says they’ll keep for a month. If so, my dreams of the perfect biscuit have come true.

  • Un gâteau aux pommes et au cidre

    Un gâteau aux pommes et au cidre

    [A cider and apple cake, not unlike a tatin tart]

    There was a night made of champagne, flickering candles, crisps and smoked salmon sandwiches, the last of the foie gras smothered onto big fat chunky pieces of baguette, an endless game of trivial pursuit where – as it turned out – the one person who refused to play (my father, apparently stuck to his mots croisés) became the one who knew all the answers, our joker – as we called him.

    Yes, there was no electricity in the house after a storm hit the lines, somewhere around Marseille. But we had us. And a dark Christmas tree. And some apple cake.

    Something I’d thrown together with things we had.

    Too-much-butter, as my mum always buys when she knows I’m coming.
    A lot of sugar.
    A touch of honey from this beekeeper my grand-mother became very fond of.
    And winter apples from M. Riouet’s orchard. And really, I say orchard when it really is just a couple of trees, but I can’t help it, his potager is the enchanted forest I grew up in.

    This cake was meant to be nothing but rustic. A mere snack after a day spent with Bruno and his goats in the mountains.
    And yet, that night, it turned into something special. Here is to power cuts! And to the new year too!

    Gâteau aux pommes et au cidre, un peu comme une tarte tatin

    While I wouldn’t necessarily force you to have this cake as a dessert, I must say it makes a pretty decent contender. Especially with a scoop of yoghurt ice-cream or a generous dollop of crème fraiche.

    But the way I see it is much more homely. The kind of cakes that’s eaten still warm from the oven, with fingers and a side made of tea in a pot. I think a light infusion of tilleul would do wonders here.

    It’s really quite simple to make. Slice three apples thinly, a knife and your hand are enough, but you can go with the mandolin too, although I didn’t. Layer them at the bottom of your tin and drizzle with honey. Top with the batter and bake. Oh, and eat too!

    Gâteau aux pommes et au cidre

    serves 8-10

    6 apples, peeled and cored
    100 g runny honey
    180 g butter
    300 g demerara sugar
    2 eggs
    245 g plain flour
    2 tsp baking powder
    1 tsp ground cinnamon
    1 tsp maldon sea salt
    180 g apple cider     (or apple juice)

    Preheat the oven to 190°C/fan 180°C.
    Butter a 24cm cake tin, line with baking paper and set aside.

    Thinly slice 3 apples and layer at the bottom of the prepared tin. Drizzle with honey and pack tightly with your hands.

    In a large bowl, cream the butter and sugar.

    In the meantime, chop the remaining apples into 2cm chunks.

    Add the eggs one at a time, mixing well after each addition. In another bowl, combine the flour, baking powder, cinnamon and salt.
    Then, alternatively add the dry ingredients and cider to the butter mixture in three times, starting with the flour.
    Finish the batter by gently folding in the apple chunks.

    Pour onto the sliced apples and bake for 45-60 minutes, or until a cake tester inserted into the centre of the cake comes out clean. Allow to cool for a few minutes, then invert onto a plate and peel off the baking paper.

  • Éclairs au chocolat

    Éclairs au chocolat

    [Chocolate eclairs]

    When trees are shaped like hearts; and breakfast means just-brewed coffee slash bike ride slash jonchée eaten as soon as I’ve taken my gum boots off.

    And we run barefoot in fields of frost. And the grass glows to the moonlight in a way only gems can. With la grande ourse [the great bear] and a feral cat as our only companions for this aimless journey.

    We breathe the cold air and feel alive. We kiss and feel warmer. It’s the very instant that matters.

    Yes, at times, it’s ok to loose track. Of time, of purpose…
    Days are long. And nights too.

    Crossing off to-dos like there is no tomorrow, because, after all, holidays are made of no-tomorrows.

    Today, we made éclairs, à la Fauchon. It was fun, and messy. The kitchen ended up looking à la Fauchon too. Stripped with white and black fondants.

    It’s fine, really. It is.

    We licked our fingers. And ate an éclair, of the à la minute kind. Then scrubbed the counter until it no longer felt sticky. Just our mouths did. And that is a good sign, by all accounts.

    Éclairs au chocolat
    Inspired by Fauchon.

    If you can make choux paste and crème pâtissière, then it really all gets down to glazing an éclair with fondant, then piping straight lines of a coloured fondant. This can be made with either a piping bag or a paper cornet (the latter being my favourite, some things will never change, trust me).

    The only trick to know is to make sure both fondant have the same temperature and texture.
    For the chocolate fondant, I simply added a bit of cacao powder until it looked dark enough. Then mixed in 30°B syrup until the texture seemed just right.

    I guess it’s a bit of a trial and error at first. But it’s ok. We love sticky fingers around here.

    And since I’m at it, fondant is a kind of crystallised sugar that can be found in fancy shops. In case it’s nowhere to be found, try mixing icing sugar and a tiny bit of water…

    Both the choux paste and crème pâtissière can be made in advance. Since the paste is frozen, you can make it up to a week before. And the cream can stay in the fridge for a couple of days.
    However, once the éclairs are filled, they’re best eaten in the day.

    Éclairs au chocolat

    makes 12 éclairs
    for the choux paste
    one recipe of choux paste
    one egg    , for eggwash
    butter, to grease the baking tray

    Make the choux paste according to the recipe.
    Pipe it onto a baking tray lined with baking paper into logs using a 15mm nozzle; then freeze. Cut into 13cm-long éclairs and arrange on a buttered tray. And bake until golden brown (tips on how to bake choux paste here).

    For the crème pâtissière

    250g milk
    100g cream
    2 egg yolks
    30g caster sugar
    15g cornflour
    100g dark chocolate

    Bring the milk and cream to the boil. In a bowl, mix the egg yolks with the sugar and cornflour. Pour the boiling liquids over the yolks, whisking as you go. Then place back into the pan and cook – whisking at all times – until boiling.
    Transfer to a bowl and add the chocolate. Handblend and clingfilm to the touch. Chill.

    Using a small nozzle, fill the eclairs. And set aside.

    For the glaze
    fondant
    cacao powder
    30°B syrup     (100g caster sugar + 100g water, brought to the boil, then chilled)

    Melt the fondant over a bain-marie or in the microwave. Divide into two heatproof bowls. Add cacao powder to colour one of the batches into a dark brown fondant.

    Reheat both fondant over a bain-marie or in the microwave, until it reaches 30-35°C. Adding a little syrup to make it runny enough. Then using a small spatula or your finger, glaze the top of the éclair.
    Immediately pipe straight lines of dark fondant, making sure the tip of your bag or cornet is cut small enough (perhaps 2mm, the fondant will spread). Then run your finger along the éclair to clean up it sides and twirl the end of the piped lines.

    Repeat with the remaining éclairs. They will keep in the fridge overnight, although they’re best eaten on the same day.