Vanilla Bean Panna Cotta & Amaretti Brownies

Valentine’s Day. Again.

Love is the condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own. 

- Robert Heinlein 

Valentine’s Day. This evokes a great philosophical debate chez nous year in and year out. Do we or don’t we? To Valentine’s Day or not to Valentine’s Day? I am led to believe by those willing to convince me that this day is no day at all, that if I surrender, give in to the commercial greed and false proclamations of so many admen, I somehow put our love at risk, laugh at the seriousness of the glue that holds our couple together, relinquish our passion to someone else who dares dictate how and when we declare our love. The sceptics surround me on every side, closing in, yet I glance up and smile sweetly, nodding in ostensible agreement all the while dreaming romantic dreams of my man.

Go ahead, just try and convince me. I surrender to your words. Wrap me in your arms and tell me that the day means nothing to you at all, that no one can put limits or restrictions, obligations or rules on the expression of your feelings. Tell me that you desire me every day and you need no one at all to hand you an opportunity to show me just how much. But (just this once) recognize this day with a gift or a sign, no matter how small, just because you know what it means to me, a single sentimental gesture to acknowledge the expectation that flutters in my heart, and I promise you that in return I will agree with you about the nothingness of Valentine’s Day every single day for the rest of the year.

Ah, Valentine’s Day. Who knows just precisely how or when or where you began, who proclaimed this as the day of love, billets doux, sweet nothings, gentle whispers and fervent glances. And to what import? Did Mark Antony need Valentine’s Day to pull Cleopatra into his lustful embrace? Did Romeo need Valentine’s Day to inspire him to declare his passion for the young Juliet hovering breathlessly above in the moonlight? Did Valentine’s Day stir Napoleon’s amour for Josephine or elicit Darcy’s throwing himself at Elizabeth’s feet? No, I dare say not. It is true that one does not need this day to be a lover, to express desire, to recount unhesitatingly, ardently, passionately one’s undying love. No, not at all.

And as far as famous lovers go, we may be more Lucy and Ricky, our couple that quirky balance of fiery and comical, or George Burns and Gracie Allen, a little bit like some zany old-fashioned sitcom. Or even Julia and Paul Child, playful and creative and standing out from the crowd like two rare and exotic creatures, more intellectual than glamorous, more ordinary than star crossed, more frivolity and heartfelt emotion than dark, brooding vamp and suave Casanova. But whoever or whatever the influence, we have never needed Valentine’s Day as a pretense to offer each other gifts, pop open the Champagne or snuggle up together. Yet…. yet… there is still something about Valentine’s Day that stirs up my womanly desires, lights the fire within, brings out the fluttering young girl in me again.

Like a faded romance novel or timeworn love story, I want him to smother me with kisses, shower me with baubles and sentimental gewgaws; I want to feel his soothing caress and his warm breath on my cheek as his love washes over me. But he is right. No exuberant display of emotion is necessary, not even diamonds and rubies are required, just his loving glance, my hand in his, a gentle squeeze, a careful, graceful acknowledgement of my frivolous desire to be pampered on this of all days and then we can move on to all the rest of the days of the year.

For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart. 

It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul. 

– Judy Garland 

* It’s the same story every year, and this Valentine’s Day is no different. Although he offers to take me out and bring me a voluptuous bouquet simply to make me happy, he believes none of it. Yes, it is the same story every year so I decided to republish an old Valentine’s Day post from 2011, only slightly altered, a bit like us.

Vanilla Bean Panna Cotta & Amaretti Brownies

Recipe Vanilla Bean Panna Cotta can be found here:
Changes: the seeds scraped out of one vanilla bean/pod replaced the liquid vanilla extract. Add the seeds with the 2 cups cream and the sugar to the warm cream/gelatin mixture in the pot and finish the recipe as indicated.

Make the Panna Cotta the day before making the dessert. Either divide the panna cotta evenly among 6 or 8 dessert glasses or ramekins or pour into a large, shallow baking dish if you want to add a layer of the panna cotta to a layer of brownie. Chill overnight in the refrigerator.

Recipe Amaretti Brownies can be found here:
Changes: The Amaretto can be replaced with 1 teaspoon vanilla extract or ½ teaspoon vanilla extract + ¼ teaspoon almond extract.

Allow the brownies to cool completely in the pan.

For the Valentine’s Day dessert, serve the glass of Vanilla Bean Panna Cotta with a dollop of very lightly sweetened or unsweetened whipped heavy cream and raspberries with a small round of Amaretti Brownie.

To create the layered dessert, using a round ring mold or cookie/biscuit cutter, cut out a round from the Amaretti Brownies per serving; carefully twist the mold and lift out brownie round and place on a dessert plate. Very carefully, using the same ring mold, cut out a round from the Vanilla Bean Panna Cotta and lift up using a spatula pushed underneath to lift it up and onto the brownie. Carefully but quickly slide the spatula out from under the panna cotta, aligning the ring mold over the brownie and lift. Serve immediately with a dollop of whipped cream and raspberries. If desired, place the ring mold with the slice of panna cotta over the brownie round and slide the ring down onto the brownie and reserve in the refrigerator in the ring mold to chill until ready to serve.

Read more »

CLASSIC CHOCOLATE CHIP PECAN BLONDIES

ANOTHER TRIP

Summer journeys to Niag'ra
and to other places aggra-
vate all our cares.
We'll save our fares!

I've a cozy little flat in
what is known as old Manhattan
we'll settle down
right here in town!

And tell me what street
compares with Mott Street
in July?
Sweet pushcarts gently gli-ding by.

The great big city's a wonderous toy
just made for a girl and boy.
We'll turn Manhattan
into an isle of joy!
- Lorenz Hart & Richard Rodgers

I am packing for a trip to New York City. How exciting and special is this trip – the International Association of Culinary Professionals annual conference and I am attending! I’ll be hugging friends once again that I have had the great luck to have already met, meeting and spending time with others. This is a learning and working trip: meetings, appointments, introductions, and sessions. I feel like I’ve finally grown up and can join the real professionals, and that is extremely gratifying, thrilling and motivating. Yet, this will be my first trip back to New York since that visit with my brother Michael during his illness, since his death. My first time not staying with him. Daunting, to say the least. And truly bittersweet, like a thick, bitter-tinged salted butter caramel wrapped around the big juicy sweet apple.

I rush around the apartment, doing laundry, catching up on long-neglected e-mails, finishing articles and cleaning the kitchen. My suitcase lies empty and gaping, nagging me to pay it some heed. I normally begin packing several weeks before a trip, yet I can’t seem to concentrate on the task at hand. Too excited? Distracted? Feeling unorganized and unprepared? Maybe. Likely. So I do more laundry, type more e-mails, change the sheets on our bed once again and bake.


My family has not quite gotten used to my leaving for chunks of time, even as I leave more often. They get along just fine without me – shopping, marketing, cooking, laundry – everything runs smoothly with only men in the house! Yet they are sad when I leave them; my company is always in demand, whether it be for a stroll around town just to get a bit of fresh air or when errands are needed to be run. And now that we are house hunting and decisions need to be made on the spot, I leave a wide gap in that need and decisions risk being made without me. But I am more than happy to leave the three of them on their own for a week here and there, no matter how much I miss them. They do that man thing and bond – they go out for pizza, watch action films (think giant fire balls, gladiators or something military), take Marty outside of the city for a run in the great outdoors. Much time will be spent in the garage readjusting the Lambretta and taking it for a spin around the block, putting together Simon’s portfolio and sometimes I suspect that things may just run a bit more smoothly and comfortably without my female presence and point of view. And big mouth.

Start spreading the news,
I'm leaving today.
I want to be a part of it -
New York, New York.

These vagabond shoes
Are longing to stray
And step around the heart of it
New York, New York.

I want to wake up in a city,
That doesn't sleep,
To find I'm king of the hill,
Head of the list,
Cream of the crop
At top of the heap.
- John Kander, Fred Ebb

What will New York hold for me? Many have such high hopes for me, yet I go with rather a large blank running through my head, quite possibly the reason I find it hard to get overly excited about something so formidable and utterly exciting before I actually step into the crowded hotel lobby. Finding myself surrounded by hundreds of food writers, photographers, editors, cookbook authors and chefs is indeed daunting, yet thrilling and inspiring. As shy and uncomfortable as I am around people that I do not know – and who somehow all seem to already know each other – I rarely have problems introducing myself. I have been promised that attendees of this conference are wildly friendly and open to random self-introductions, happy to take one by the hand and show one the way. I have a list of far-away friends to meet, a schedule written down in black on white of breakfasts, lunches and dinners organized. This will be the time to share ideas, listen and discuss while being back in one of the world’s most exciting cities. Oh yeah. And as my friend Ken says, we’ll be eating our way across Manhattan!


And so I fly away across the ocean, leaving my men one more time. They’ll be perfectly fine with my short absence, yet I do not like to leave them empty handed. And so I bake. I love to leave them a sweet treat or two to see them through my time away; a coffee cake, a tin of cookies and a pan of brownies always soothes their moments empty of me! I threw together one of our favourite snacks, a pan of Classic Blondies chock full of mini chocolate chips and crunchy pecans, flavored with a hint of cinnamon and grated orange zest. Easy to make and oh so easy going down. My men are crazy about chocolate chip cookies and this is as good as if not better.


CLASSIC CHOCOLATE CHIP PECAN BLONDIES
With a kiss of cinnamon and orange – adapted from Linda Burum’s Brownies

A long-time family favourite.

1 ¼ cups (175 g) flour, lightly spooned into the measuring cup and levelled
1 ¼ tsp baking powder
½ tsp salt
½ - 1 tsp ground cinnamon, depending on taste
Finely grated zest of one orange, preferably untreated, optional
2/3 cup (about 11 1/3 Tbs, 160 g) unsalted butter, softened to room temperature
½ cup (100 g) granulated white sugar
2/3 cup (140 g) packed light or golden brown sugar
1 tsp vanilla
2 large eggs
2 tsps milk
½ - 1 cup coarsely chopped pecans or walnuts
½ - 1 cup mini chocolate chips

Preheat the oven to 350°F (180°C) and butter a 9 x 9-inch metal cake pan.

Stir or whisk together the flour, baking powder, salt, ground cinnamon and finely grated zest in a small bowl.

In a large mixing bowl using an electric mixer, beat the softened butter with the granulated sugar until blended, smooth and fluffy. Beat in the brown sugar until blended, smooth and fluffy. Beat in the eggs, one at a time, adding the vanilla with the second egg, just until blended. Beat in the milk.

Using a wooden spoon or a spatula, fold in the dry ingredients just until blended; fold in the chips and the nuts until evenly distributed.

Spread the batter evenly and smoothly in the prepared baking pan and bake for about 30 minutes until the center is just set; cover the pan loosely with a piece of aluminum foil for the last 5 minutes of baking if the Blondies are browning too quickly.


Remove the Blondies from the oven and allow to cool on a rack. Eat warm or at room temperature. And a spoonful of Salted Butter Caramel Sauce or two never hurt anyone. Mama says.

Read more »

BROWNIE PECAN CUPCAKES WITH SALTED BUTTER

SALTY AND SWEET


When I was about eight or ten years old, my father bought an ice cream maker. Revelation! You see, we were an ice cream family: our freezer was always well stocked with gallon containers of everyone’s favorites, an array of flavors to suit each one of us, chocolate, coffee, Neapolitan (I would only eat the chocolate and vanilla stripes, leaving the strawberry for my brother) and Checkerboard. Out would come the tub of whipped topping, the jars of chocolate and berry sauces, the bottles of colored sprinkles and we’d go to town. The sky was the limit: as our parents were each as ice cream nutty as we kids were, there were no rules as to when or how much; ice cream, for all intents and purposes, was in our blood.

Ice cream sandwiches and ice cream on a stick were choice after-school snacks and how many times a week would dad pile us all in the car for a trip to Dairy Queen for a cone or a cup? The familiar tinkling music of the beloved ice cream truck every summer afternoon had an almost spontaneous effect and we would drop whatever we were up to and dash out into the street, coins clutched in expectant, eager hands. Maybe the Florida sunshine and heat created this yearning, this overwhelming need for ice cream, but I don’t think so. My grandmother up in her northern home, half the year under snow, practically lived on ice cream, even more so as she entered her 70’s and 80’s, a habit (or a diet) her daughter, my mother, has quickly taken on as well. So snow and ice or searing heat and beaches makes no difference where our family is concerned, ice cream is simply our way of life, one of our basic food groups.


So when dad brought home that old-fashioned hand-crank ice cream machine we were ecstatic! It was adoration at first sight, love at first bite. I have only vague memories of us sitting on the driveway in front of the house, churning ice cream. I don’t remember much about the ice cream itself; there may have been vanilla and peach, possibly strawberry. But I do remember the chocolate ice cream that came out of that maker. The flavor haunts me to this day, and, like a Pavlovian reflex, just pulling up the memory makes my mouth water. Maybe it was the rock salt that we had to pack around the central canister, but the chocolate ice cream, light and icy, had a salty undertone that I simply loved! I had always been a kid intrigued by unusual flavors and flavor combinations, eating peanut butter and salami sandwiches, for example, so the hint of salt in the chocolate ice cream was the best thing that I’d ever tasted!

So, well before the trend of salt and chocolate, I was into it. The clashing sensation amazed me and still does to this day. Sweet and savory is my favorite way to go with meat dishes, but in a dessert it is utterly delectable and astounding. I find it rather intellectual, the unexpected discord, which somehow goes so perfectly together, creating a balance of salty and sweet that makes the tastebuds tingle and the palate come alive. Think chocolate-covered pretzels and potato chips…


My son is now home, as you well know, and he hovers around me asking for baked goods, snacks to feed his sweet tooth and man-sized appetite, yet he always demands, nay, requires, the same things over and over again. At the top of the list are brownies, simple, cakey rather than dense, fluffy rather than gooey, chocolate and plain with only a handful or two of chopped pecans to alleviate the usual, adding just a bit of earthy crunch to an otherwise, well, plain chocolate cake. I succeeded in sneaking in a splash or three of Cointreau on top of the orange-infused baking chocolate in the last batch and the occasional addition of Amaretto doesn’t illicit so much as a raised eyebrow, so this time I thought that I would be safe in using a large quantity of salted butter to add that subtle salty undertone. The salty flavor is subtle indeed, barely perceptible, rather leaving a beautiful, indescribable lingering bouquet in the mouth, begging for more. This is the ideal recipe for those craving a brownie or two yet want something cakier to assuage the brownie hankering without the guilt – my men gobble them up for breakfast. Soon, I’ll post a more adult version of this one, the dense, gooey, decadent brownie bite, but for now I leave you with a lighter, more delicate cupcake version of the brownie.


LIGHT & FLUFFY BROWNIE CUPCAKES
From Brownies by Linda Burum with a salty twist

Makes 48 mini cupcakes

3.5 ounces (100 g) semisweet chocolate
0.7 ounces (20 g) unsweetened chocolate *
16 Tbs (1 cup/225 g) salted butter, softened
4 large eggs
1 1/3 cups (266 g) sugar
1 tsp vanilla
1 cup (140 g) flour
1 cup coarsely chopped pecans

* You can use a total of 4 ounces (120 g) semisweet chocolate if you prefer

Slowly melt the butter and chopped chocolate together in a bain marie or in a heatproof bowl over gently simmering water, stirring to keep it from burning. Remove from the heat when the chocolate is almost but not quite completely melted; continue stirring until completely melted and smooth. Set aside to cool.

Preheat the oven to 350°F (180°C). Line 48 mini muffin/cupcake molds with paper cups (mine measure just under 2 inches/5 cm at the wide open end).

In a large mixing bowl, whisk the eggs, sugar and vanilla together until combined and smooth. Whisk in the melted chocolate and butter until very smooth. Stir in the flour and then the chopped nuts, fold and mixing until well blended and smooth.

If you like your brownies or chocolate cupcakes saltier, simply add pinches of fleur de sel or table salt to taste.

Using a spoon, carefully drop tablespoons of the batter in each paper cup, filling each about ¾ the way up. Bake for 25 to 30 minutes or until puffed up and just set in the center. Remove the muffin trays to a cooling rack and carefully pop each muffin out of the mold. Allow to cool on cooling racks.


You can top these bites with a dollop of your favorite buttercream frosting, ganache or freshly whipped, barely sweetened cream. Or eat just as they are with a mug of coffee or a tall glass of cold milk.

Read more »

ORANGE COINTREAU BROWNIE TIRAMISU

SNOWED IN

Mieux encore que dans la chambre j’t’aime dans la cuisine
Rien n’est plus beau que les mains d’une femme dans la farine
Quand tu fais la tarte aux pommes, poupée, tu es divine
Rien n’est plus beau que les mains d’une femme dans la farine. *
- Claude Nougaro

As, once again, Europe reposes snuggly under a blanket of white, Nantes remains bright and clear and unusually, sadly, free of dusty snow. Blizzards rage across the country and cities are buried under thick drifts of powder one after the other, yet Nantes stays temperate and dry. Oh, we did have our one flurry, whipping across the rooftops and through the streets, ever so fleetingly, but it has already fluttered away, disappearing like an ace of spades in the fingers of a magician, as ephemeral as dandelion fluff carried away on the wind. The long-promised snow came early one morning and by the afternoon we were out tromping across the stretch of white on Place Louis XVI, crunching and running and laughing, enticed outside and throughout the city like excited children. Handfuls gathered up and tossed back and forth, screeching with delight, laughing as Marty danced and skipped in a futile attempt to keep his paws out of the damp cold ice. We arrived back at the house chilled and out of breath but thrilled and content with the vibrancy and sparkle of the much-anticipated winter.


But nothing lingers; the temperature has dropped to glacial yet the lovely white has melted and gone away. The Arctic chill has driven us indoors and we stay huddled together happily, reading, watching films, working on projects. I must admit that I have been so lazy these past few days, lazy and blah and just a tad grumpy, so grumpy that I had my men dancing around me trying to cheer me up, attempting to drag a chuckle from my lips, doing what they could to pull me up and out of the doldrums. Silly faces, eye-roll-worthy jokes and a quick song and dance were mine for the asking, but, alas, I was in no mood to be consoled. I buried my chin just a little bit deeper into my collar and plunked down into my chair at the table, as if on cue, just to be fed. Despite my absolute passion for the icy winter weather, maybe the fact of being inside, albeit cozy and warm, has made me lackadaisical, my energy sapped and my brain and body simply listless. So JP decided that a jaunt out in the chill, a stroll through town, a spot of window shopping, would be just the thing to kick start my creative energy and inspire a story or two. So…

We ventured to Angers today, a wonderful city an hour outside of Nantes, where the chill factor was below frigid and snow still carpeted the ground. Simon went to take a language proficiency test, so JP and I scurried and slid across their very icy sidewalks, through the streets, looking for a warm haven in which to wait. Arm in arm, only tumbling once, we popped into a café and ordered steaming mugs of hot chocolate and nibbled on bottereaux, small square puffs of fried dough dusted with powdered sugar, a regional specialty for Carnival, and we happily wiled away an hour in the warm comfort of a barren bistro. Not ones to miss out on a little adventure and fresh air, we finally bundled back up, gathered our courage and ventured our way back out into the cold. A slippery-slidey trip through the center of Angers, we decided to once again visit the la Tenture de l’Apocalypse, the stunning XIVth century tapestries depicting the Apocalypse created for Louis 1er d’Anjou, on display in a long, dark, solemn wing of the city’s Château. We love the quiet, deserted space, miles high and so dim we had to lean in closely and squint to read the description of each tapestry. A wonderful sanctuary with a fascinating history, but back out into the snow we went to finally meet up with Simon and drive back home where….


We found Marty curled up against the radiator, slowly going bald as he mysteriously does each and every winter, and we unbundled and tried to find a warm spot in our vast, drafty apartment. An adventure and a quick call to a friend upon returning home did indeed seem to boost my spirit and knock some ideas into the old noggin and I began to organize my work and type. Yet, for three days or more, Simon has been begging me, nudging me, prodding and harassing me to bake him brownies: chocolaty yet not too chocolaty, moist yet not too dense, fluffy, crusty with enough chopped pecans to balance out the natural sweetness of a good pan of brownies. Yes, my baby is exacting, fussy and downright imperious, but what’s a mother to do? He loves my treats as long as they are always exactly the same. With nothing special or, as he says, “fishy” inside. And so I made him brownies. Little does he know and much to his horror if he ever finds out, I decided to jazz up this great, classic brownie recipe with orange and Cointreau with the idea to turn part of the recipe into a stunning, elegant, luxurious and romantic treat for Valentine’s Day. So a splash of liqueur and a bar of orange-flavored chocolate and the trick was done. And out came my heart-shaped muffin tin and the romantic girly-girl and the devoted mom merged into one and Orange Cointreau Brownies were born.

A te voir ainsi je retrouve mon âme enfantine
Rien n’est plus pur que les mains d’une femme dans la farine. *

Who says that Valentine’s Day should be pink and red. Orange is the color of burning desire, and after 25 years with my own man I can assure you that burning desire is still indeed the color of the day. Orange is fiery heat, burning bright and constant rather than explosive red bursting and then quickly fading away or gentle pink, pale, feminine and utterly forgettable. Orange is creativity and enthusiasm, deep, passionate, inspiring. So you can keep your dainty raspberry concoctions, your effeminate, sweet strawberry confections. The bright, jazzy taste of oranges, the voluptuous whipped mascarpone cream, light, ethereal yet so sumptuous, spiked with an ever-so-adult splash or three of Cointreau atop a dense orange-scented brownie infused with sharp, bitter orange marmalade is my Valentine’s Day offering, a gift from the heart. Passionate, indulgent, neither insipid nor conventional, an astonishing Tiramisu, a superbly lavish Valentine’s Day dessert to declare your burning desire.


There’s nothing quite like chocolate for Valentine’s Day and February is #chocolatelove month! Please join in on the #chocolatelove fun and romance by linking up any chocolate recipe posted during the month of February 2012 . Don't forget to hop over to this post to share your recipe. The twitter hashtag is #chocolatelove.

* Even more than in the bedroom, I love you in the kitchen.
Nothing is more beautiful than the hands of a woman in flour.
When you make an apple pie, baby doll, you are divine
Nothing is more beautiful than the hands of a woman in flour.
Seeing you so my childhood soul returns to me
Nothing is purer than the hands of a woman in flour.
- Claude Nougaro

ORANGE COINTREAU FUDGE BROWNIES
Adapted from a recipe in Brownies by Linda Burum

3 ½ oz (100 g) Intense Orange Chocolate by Lindt (or equivalent orange-scented semisweet chocolate)
2 oz (60 g) unsweetened chocolate
1 1/3 cups (300 g) unsalted butter
2 ½ cups (500 g) sugar
¼ tsp salt
1 tsp vanilla
1 – 2 Tbs Cointreau or Grand Marnier
5 large eggs
1 ½ cups (180 g) flour (lightly spooned into measuring cup then leveled with a knife)
1 ½ cups (125 g) coarsely chopped pecans

Preheat the oven to 350°F (180°C). Lightly but thoroughly butter a six-cup heart-shaped muffin tin or equivalent (each cup holds a little more than one soup ladle of batter) and one 15 ½ x 10 ½ x 1-inch (approximately 39 x 26 x 2 ½ cm) jellyroll pan.

In a medium saucepan over low heat, melt the butter together with the chocolates, stirring gently to keep from burning. Remove from the heat when almost but not completely melted, continuing to stir off the heat until all the butter and chocolate are melted. Allow to cool slightly.

Scrape all of the chocolate-butter liquid into a large heatproof mixing bowl and add the sugar, salt and vanilla and stir or whisk until well blended. It will be grainy. Stir in the Cointreau. Vigorously whisk or stir in the eggs one at a time, blending well after each addition. The batter should become smooth and no longer grainy. Stir in the chopped pecans and the flour until well blended and smooth.

Ladle batter into each buttered muffin cup of the tin until filled about halfway and not more than ¾ full. Pour the rest into the prepared jellyroll pan and smooth, making sure the batter fills the corners and all the way to the edges.

Bake the brownies for 25 – 30 minutes, depending on the size of the pans and the oven, until the brownies are set and the top shiny. A toothpick inserted into the brownies should come out clean. If you prefer your brownies gooey and slightly undercookied in the center, take them out of the oven sooner, but the top should be uniformly set and shiny.

Remove the tins from the oven and allow to cool on racks.


ORANGE COINTREAU BROWNIE TIRAMISU
For approximately 8 individual Tiramisu

Orange Cointreau Brownies (½ x 10 ½ x 1-inch (@ 39 x 26 x 2 ½ cm) jellyroll pan)
Bitter orange marmalade or jelly + a bit of Cointreau

4 large eggs, separated
2 cups (500 g) fresh mascarpone
½ cups (100 g) granulated sugar, divided
2 – 3 Tbs Cointreau or Grand Marnier

Unsweetened cocoa powder for dusting

Separate the egg yolks from the whites. Set the whites aside is a medium bowl, preferably plastic or metal.

Beat the yolks in a large bowl with all except 1 tablespoon of the sugar until very thick, creamy and pale. Beat in the mascarpone until well blended and creamy. Stir in 2 tablespoons of Cointreau.

Beat the whites until they start to stiffen. Add the remaining tablespoon of sugar gradually, continuing to beat the whites stiff. Carefully fold the stiff egg whites, a third at a time, into the mascarpone/egg mixture: using a spatula, gently fold the whites into the mixture after each addition so as not to break the air in the whites. Taste the mascarpone cream, adding a bit more sugar or Cointreau to taste.

Using individual metal ring molds, press each mold into the brownies; carefully slide a wide spatula underneath the brownie and the ring and lift off of the pan. Invert the mold with the brownie base inside it and place the inverted ring mold on a platter; press the circle of brownie down into the mold, sliding it so it rests at the bottom on the plate (still inside of the ring): the brownie is now upside down so the crusty, shiny side is down and the moister side is up.

Once all of the ring molds have a brownie base (inverted) and are lined up on the platter or clean cookie tray, melt several tablespoons of bitter orange marmalade over very low heat, stirring to avoid burning; stir in a capful of Cointreau to liquefy the jelly. Using a pastry brush, dab a layer of bitter orange marmalade onto and all over each brownie base, as much or as little as desired. Spoon the prepared Cointreau mascarpone into each ring mold on top of the brownie base to fill up to the top of the ring.

Cover all of the filled ring molds with plastic wrap and refrigerate overnight.

To serve, slide a wide spatula underneath each Tiramisu, one at a time, and place one on each individual dessert place. Dust the surface of each Tiramisu generously with unsweetened cocoa powder. Carefully slide a thin, sharp knife around each Tiramisu to loosen then gently twist and lift the ring mold off of the Tiramisu. Serve and eat immediately.

Read more »

BAKED CHOCOLATE TARTLETS WITH SALTED BUTTER CARAMEL SAUCE

STARTING OVER – STEP 4 (DARE!)

Your work is going to fill a large part of your life,
and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work.
And the only way to do great work is to love what you do.
- Steve Jobs

“I’m exhausted,” he sighs as he plops down onto the sofa and rhythmically begins rubbing his temples, weariness spread across his entire body. “I don’t know up from down and the Rat Race just makes me crazy!” Looking for comfort, a bit of reassurance and maybe one of her good, old-fashioned pep talks, he waits for her to decide what to say. Ironing, when not baking, has always been her way to center herself, focus her thoughts and clear her head, and once again he finds her in the corner of the livingroom, steam curling around her head, ready to listen. You see, instead of taking a much-needed and deserved six-month’s rest, he dove right in, grabbing at projects right and left, trying his hand and heart at this and that, looking for the perfect fit, the next step in his starting over.

Back and forth, back and forth; her arm follows the path of the iron hypnotically. With each wrinkle of the smooth cloth that disappears under the searing pressure, so goes a wrinkle of stress, a spot of confusion, one pessimistic thought. She glances his way but briefly, yearning to make a connection yet avoiding direct eye contact – his eyes, though, are turned towards the window, staring off into some hazy distance on the horizon – and begins listing for him all of their accomplishments, reminding him of their dreams. She goes on, discoursing on how this crazy, modern world and all of those sadly caught up in the rules and limitations set by some noisy majority, a crowd of strangers out to instill a sense of guilt and self-castigation, mean little to them and those willing to live by their own set of rules and happiness. “This is our adventure!” she exclaims. “You know deep down that it will be all right. We are on the right track.” Her soothing voice reaches towards him, ringing an odd but savory truth. And he pushes himself up and gets back to work. She turns off the iron, calmer now, and…


And she got right into the rhythm, inspired by his work ethic and stick-to-itiveness: she succeeded in putting herself on a schedule (sort of), fixing goals and deadlines (mostly kept), staying off of social media and away from her friends during her working hours (well….) and actually getting things done (yes!). After a month, a very long month away, she is buckling down, with his tacit encouragement and his calming presence (not to mention his iron eye) and has begun to attend to her work seriously: writing and submitting, magazine articles, recipes, book projects and proposals. Nose to the grindstone, she is surprised when she gets to the end of her day, crawling between the cool sheets, and realizes that she accomplished what she had set out to do. She smiles to herself, half satisfied, and mentally notes what she will attempt tomorrow.

Your time is limited so don’t waste it living someone else’s life.
- Steve Jobs

We are all home together again, JP and I and both the boys. And Marty, happy dog. Somehow, now that the boys are grown, they are less reluctant to spend an evening in with the parents, one big happy family. We are back to cooking meals, real meals, and eating at the kitchen table, discussing projects and plans, trips and school. With, of course, the occasional pizza dinner in front of a good (or not so good) movie. Mealtime as a family has always been our strong point, as odd a family as we are with our rather unconventional lifestyle. Through thick and thin, adolescent doldrums, arguments and disagreements, come rain or shine we have always gathered around the dinner table of an evening, neutral territory. Leaving our differences behind, we come to the meal ready to chat, laugh and learn. The topics are anything that we dream of: tales of country, king and wars; stories of school, work or people; memories of time shared, spent or traveled; places seen, experienced and lived.

Simon has been gone for a year and a half, Clem for two months and I for one. As things slowly return to normal, the two remaining are pulled out of their slump and things begin to find their rhythm. JP and I are neck deep in our individual projects, Clem is back to school and work fulltime after an exciting and successful summer interning, designing, creating, networking, hobnobbing. Simon, finally returned from his volunteer stint in New Orleans and then Florida where he has been taking care of his grandmother and her dog, has been researching, planning and organizing the next stage of his life. So we have all been busy, busy, busy. And now, on top of everything, we are planning our drive down to Italy where I am headed to From Plate to Page and where we will be leaving Simon for an internship in Milan.


I haven’t had the time to update our personal travelogue, my heartfelt, comforting advice on Starting Over… but believe me, we have been rushing madly forward, devising plans, working on several projects in parallel, our fingers in so many pies. Something, anything has got to click. And it will. Like cats, we always tend to fall on our feet and what is life if not an adventure? You see, I’ve been overseeing my home, rearranging what was disarranged while I was away, helping to get Simon on his feet through careful negotiation, some loud arguments, weighing options, group decisions and gentle hand holding. I listen to JP as he recounts tales of his research or clinical adventures, lets off steam or discusses opportunities. I do laundry while waiting for ideas to gestate and take form, drink coffee and eat cake while thumbing through a mindless novel when I need to refuel or frustration needs to be fended off, and I write. And write. And write. Happily and oh so luckily I have girlfriends out there in the world who support me, encourage me, advise and inform me. We all need guidance and kind words, and that is part of Step 4…for who can Start Over if one doesn’t dare….dare to venture out into worlds unknown, reach out and make new contacts, call attention to oneself? He is doing it as well as I, each in our own domains and our own ways.

Chocolate is a perfect food, as wholesome as it is delicious, a beneficent restorer of exhausted power. It is the best friend of those engaged in literary pursuits.
- Baron Justus von Liebig

And in between my many projects, my writing, Plate to Page planning and organizing, I have been pulling myself out of a slump both writing and baking. Man, as they say, cannot live on bread alone and that usually means chocolate. Back in the mood to bake, I have been pampering my family with sweet treats almost everyday. Macarons, Pecan Caramel Chocolate Cake, fudgy brownies (to come) and they have been gobbling it all up, pleased as punch that crazy mom and her endless baking are back! And with all of our projects, we certainly need to refuel and all the good things chocolate does to body and soul are the ideal nourishment.

It has been shown as proof positive that carefully prepared chocolate is as healthful a food as it is pleasant; that it is nourishing and easily digested...
that it is above all helpful to people who must do a great deal of mental work.
- Anthelme Brillat-Savarin

An absolutely stunning recipe, my Baked Chocolate Tartlets begin with a tender, delicate, perfect pie crust based on the French style of replacing granulated sugar with powdered and adding milk to the egg used to bind the dry ingredients into a dough. The filling is mousse-like, light and airy from whipping then brief baking, melting on the tongue in an ethereal cloud yet deep in chocolate flavor like a brownie or flourless cake. And serve these scrumptious, elegant tartlets with a classic Salted Butter Caramel Sauce, a local tradition, with a scoop of vanilla ice cream, a dollop of whipped cream or simply with a dusting of powdered sugar. Perfect. Just perfect.


BAKED CHOCOLATE TARTLETS WITH SALTED BUTTER CARAMEL SAUCE

For the Pie Crust:

1 ¾ cups (250 g) flour
1/3 cup (40 g) powdered/icing sugar
8 Tbs (115 g) unsalted butter, slightly softened, cubed
1 large egg yolks
Scant ¼ cup (50 ml) milk, slightly more if needed

Sift or whisk together the flour and powdered sugar in a large mixing bowl. Drop in the cubes of butter and, using the tips of your fingers and thumb, rub the butter and flour together quickly until all of the butter is blended in and there are no more lumps. Add the egg yolk and the milk and, using a fork, blend vigorously until all of the flour/sugar/butter mixture is moistened and starts to pull together into a dough.

Scrape the dough out onto a floured work surface and, using the heel of one hand, smear the dough inch by inch away from you in short, hard, quick movements; this will completely blend the butter in. Scrape up the smeared dough and, working very quickly, gently knead into a smooth, homogeneous ball. Wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate for 20 to 30 minutes.

Lightly grease with butter the sides and bottoms of 6 individual tartlet tins (4 to 4 ¼ inches/ 10 ½ to 11 cm wide) and place the prepared tins on a baking sheet.

Remove the dough from the refrigerator and unwrap. Working on a floured surface and with the top of the dough kept lightly floured to keep it from sticking to the rolling pin, roll out the dough and line the tins by gently lifting in and pressing down the dough. Trim the edges. Cover the baking tray with the lined tins with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 30 minutes. This can also be done ahead of time.

Preheat the oven to 350°F (180°C).

Remove the baking tray from the refrigerator and discard the plastic wrap. Cut or tear squares of parchment paper larger than each tin. Prick each tartlet shell with a fork (not too hard or deep as you don’t want holes going all the way through the dough) and place a square or parchment over each. Weigh down the parchment with pastry weights or dried beans, pushing the beans into the corners. Bake for 15 minutes. Remove from the oven, carefully lift out the parchment squares and beans, pressing the bottoms down with your fingertips if puffed up, and prepare the Chocolate Filling.

For the Chocolate Filling:

3 ½ oz (100 g) good-quality dark bittersweet or semisweet chocolate (70%)
8 Tbs (110 g) unsalted butter
4 large egg yolks + 1 large whole egg
¼ cup (50 g) + 2 Tbs (30 g) granulated white sugar, as needed

Increase the oven temperature to 400°F (200°C).

Melt the butter and chocolate together in a heatproof pyrex bowl over a pan of just simmering water or in a bain marie, stirring gently, until just melted. Remove from the heat and allow to cool slightly. In a large mixing bowl using an electric mixer, beat the egg yolks and the whole egg with the sugar on high speed for 5 minutes until very light, airy and mousse-like. Decrease the beater speed to medium, gradually beat in the melted chocolate and butter in a stream until blended.

Pour into the pre-baked tartlet shells, evenly dividing the chocolate filling in between the 6 tins; using a soup ladle makes this easier. Slide the baking sheet with the 6 filled tins into the oven and bake for 8 minutes or until the top is just set, having formed a slight crust.

Remove from the oven, slide the tarlets off the baking tray and onto a cooling rack and allow to cool.


For the Salted Butter Caramel Sauce (Caramel au Beurre Salé):

1 cup (200 g) granulated white sugar
3 ½ Tbs (50 g) salted butter
1 cup (250 ml) heavy cream

Melt the sugar in a medium-sized saucepan over medium-low heat and cook until completely melted and caramel in color. Lower the heat to low and whisk in the butter in about 3 or 4 additions. Continuing to whisk, add the heavy cream in a slow stream; the caramel may foam up, but keep whisking, as it will calm down once all the cream is added and will turn to… a smooth caramel. Once it is smooth and creamy, remove from the heat and allow to cool at least to tepid before serving.

Read more »

BROWNIE CHUNK VANILLA ICE CREAM AND MOCHA MACARONS

EMPTY NEST


Is this what it is, the so-called Empty Nest Syndrome? Our baby boy, Simon, has been in the States for the past year and our older son, Clément, left us for his summer internship early July. We are told that our home should be filled with an oppressive emptiness, the weight of loneliness heavy on our hearts. We should yearn for the company of our dear children, their presence a necessary part of our happiness. Shall we feel abandoned, as the experts say, craving the bustle and camaraderie, desiring for nothing more than overseeing their needs and wants, preparing them hot, wholesome meals and providing them with clean and lovingly ironed laundry? Do we feel the chasm their desertion has left; are we jealous that they have quit the bosom of the family for greener pastures and the companionship of others? Just two lonely parents who have given their every waking moment for the last twenty years to a pair of beloved, darling offspring, parents now wandering aimlessly around an empty space, a home no longer a home without the noise and laughter, the demands and the exciting challenges of parenthood? A family no longer quite a family?


Who are we kidding? We hugged each son goodbye, making sure that their suitcases were filled with all necessities and clean clothes. We made sure that they would be heading to a safe haven, a roof over their heads and food on the table. Maybe a motherly tear or two was shed as I waved goodbye. And then, well, let the fun begin!

The Empty Nest just happened to coincide with JP’s sabbatical, a time when he would be home full time; no office, no office hours, no long work days away from home. How could we possibly deal with such total upheaval, these major changes all happening at one time? Without the sons to cushion our face-to-face daily existence, would we manage to fill our hours with activities not centered on them and find subjects to talk about together? Would we risk having nothing to do and nothing to say to each other? Well, if you follow my blog and understand the message nestled within the words, you will understand that, in fact, our days have been filled with joy and laughter, projects and outings. We force ourselves to separate for several hours a day simply to accomplish our individual tasks as the urge, day after day, is simply to be together, side by side, doing something, anything, nothing. Our newfound freedom, for this is what it is, allows us to do as we please when we please, and we have.

So many bloggers are writing post after post about their babies and toddlers, offering images of chubby hands and arms reaching into baskets of berries or scooping up sweet treats, stories of young children crawling into bed with them in the morning or dragging dirt into the house after a rambunctious morning outside. Not us! Those days are long gone and we find the solitude delicious, the freedom exhilarating! Neither chubby, darling toddler nor loud, demanding youth taking up our space and our time. Neither childish babbling nor adolescent kvetching to break the silence. There are no schedules to coordinate nor mealtimes abandoned for more interesting invitations, no eyes rolled in disbelief as we head early to bed or invite them to take a trek in the woods with us, no picking up after messy boys or worrying when they don’t come home at night. Just calm and serenity, lazy days dotted with bursts of energy and exertion as we see fit, quiet meals and long mornings in bed. Date night is every night and the only one we need take into account is one small Boston Terrier.

Until September: Simon returns home with the hopes of going back to school and Clem will be back for another year to continue his studies. The house will once again be filled with young men, both our own and their friends, the Young Dudes who have taken into the habit working together in the back bedrooms, popping out once in a while to enjoy a meal or a bit of tv. Doorbells buzzing, music blaring, cutlery clattering on plates, laughter ringing throughout the house and the dog bouncing after the boys in the hopes of being invited into the bedroom to crash. The house will no longer be our own to do as we please and once again we’ll be needed and argued with, confided in and made fun of, just like old times.


But maybe, just maybe, it will be different this time. Maybe they have grown up thanks to the time away and the responsibilities that were placed on their young shoulders, adolescence morphing into adulthood. Maybe their teen grumblings and unreasonable demands, their hormonal mood swings and irrational bickering will have been replaced by rational adult conversation and trust in our experience and opinions. Maybe the old skulking around, their secretiveness and mistrust will have miraculously transformed into a well-meaning sharing of confidences and a desire to meet us half way. All joking aside, we have always enjoyed our children’s company when their intelligence, kindness and humor were not overshadowed by all of the stereotypical adolescent woes and boorish comportment. We have been lucky not to be stricken by any Empty Nest Syndrome and thoroughly enjoy, appreciate and delight in our time alone, yet, truth be told, we do somehow miss our boys and being involved in their lives. We do love having them join us at a restaurant for a meal or for a picnic and a trek in the vineyards. We love hearing all about their activities and discussing their future plans with them. We love their wicked sense of humor and their clever musings. We do, after all, miss being a family.


So, until then, we will take advantage of our time alone and enjoy every single second of it.
We’ll do as we please without the risk of being caught in an uncompromising position or being accused of being old. We’ll run our lives according to our own schedule and our own whims without the judgmental glances of those two. And then we’ll prepare the house for the return of our two prodigal sons. And then we will celebrate.


Meanwhile, we cook and bake for two. I have been cutting back on the sweets but I have too long neglected Mactweets. Deeba and I decided that the theme of July’s Mac Attack challenge would be Ice Cream and Macarons, certainly a match made in heaven. I have long been craving a rich vanilla ice cream dotted decadently with chunks of pecan brownies. And what better to go with Pecan Brownie Chunk Vanilla Ice Cream than Mocha macs, that fabulous combination of chocolate and coffee, my personal favorite?


MOCHA MACARON VANILLA BROWNIE CHUNK ICE CREAM SANDWICHES

MOCHA MACARONS
The stunning combination of chocolate and coffee, the two flavors perfectly balanced and complimenting the other; neither one too heavy, bitter nor rich to overpower the other. A delicate macaron, the outside elegantly crisp and the inside satisfyingly dense and chewy, the best macaron shells I have made yet. Perfect with the ice cream or filled with your favorite chocolate ganache.

For the shells:

7.2 oz (200 g) confectioner's/powdered sugar
4 oz (115 g) finely ground blanched almonds
3 large egg whites (about 4 oz/ 112 g)
1 oz (30 g) white granulated sugar
1 Tbs unsweetened cocoa powder
1 tsp powdered (not granular) instant espresso powder

Follow the method and instructions here or here for the macarons.


VANILLA BROWNIE CHUNK ICE CREAM
From Donvier Ice Cream Maker Recipe & Instruction Booklet’s French Vanilla Ice Cream

Makes about 1 quart (1 liter) ice cream

3 large eggs
2 cups (500 ml) whole milk
1 cup (200 g) granulated white sugar
2 cups (500 ml) light cream
2 tsps vanilla
1 – 2 cups coarsely chopped pecan brownie chunks

Whisk the eggs and the milk together in a large saucepan until very well blended. Whisk in the sugar. Over medium-low heat, cook the mixture, whisking continuously, until thickened, about 10 minutes. It should smoothly coat a spoon. Allow to cool and then whisk in the cream and the vanilla. Refrigerate overnight.


PECAN BROWNIES

Bake a pan of brownies using your favorite recipes or make one of mine:

Fudgy Brownies (for an 8 x 8 or 9 x 9-inch square pan)

- or –

Best Big Pan Brownies (for a 15 ½ X 10 ½ x 1-inch (38 X 27 x 2-cm) jelly roll pan with ½-inch sides)

The fudgier the brownie the better. Adding pecans, walnuts or another kind of nut (try it with salted peanuts!) adds a satisfying crunch to the brownie and to the ice cream.

Once the brownies are cooled to room temperature, coarsely chop and reserve 1 to 2 cups, depending on how much you like to add.

Prepare the ice cream:

I used a hand-crank 1 pint (500 ml) ice cream maker, making half the custard base at a time. Once it was thickened to a smooth, creamy but still workable (not stiff) ice cream, I scraped it into a plastic freezer-friendly ice cream container and stirred in brownie chunks. I repeated with the second half of the custard base and added more brownie chunks. My brownies were slightly overdone and a bit dry so that they crumbled in the ice cream, but it is still delicious. I also added swirls of liquid caramel au beurre salé.

Read more »