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‏إظهار الرسائل ذات التسميات chestnut. إظهار كافة الرسائل
‏إظهار الرسائل ذات التسميات chestnut. إظهار كافة الرسائل

Bûche de Noël – Yule Log

IN THE HOLIDAY SPIRIT

Maybe Christmas, the Grinch thought, doesn't come from a store. 
- Dr. Seuss 


Four o’clock in the afternoon and the sky is already darkening towards dusk. Deep into winter, yet Nantes cannot decide what it wants, like a temperamental spoiled woman used to being pampered and coddled. Steely skies and frigid winds morph into a soft breeze and a blaze of sunshine only to flash to rain and glacial, tempestuous winds before you can say “Jack Frost”, before you realize what has happened. Capricious. We are a slave to her moods. We sneak out of the house as the lights outside dim, as the heavens are painted inky black and the streets begin to twinkle and glow in the holiday lights.


Wrapped around each other, we let the cold wind refresh us after staying too long in the warm apartment; wrapped around each other, we bask in the sparkle of the holiday lights and the glow of the holiday spirit, ears straining for the joyous music that seeps out of the shops. Night creeps upon us and we head back home once again to the warmth of inside where we gather together with our sons; the darkness envelops us like a blanket as we sit as a family and debate Christmas. Will we or won’t we? Will the festive, celebratory spirit embrace the household or will Scrooge settle onto the sofa, grab the remote control and grump the holiday away?

And younger son, arms crossed, eyes lowered, harumphs his displeasure. “I thought this was a Jewish home,” he mumbles, obviously not in the Christmas mood. He is a tough nut to crack, hard to pull out of one of his funks, but we are all in a great mood and we know just what to say to get him to crack a smile.


The holiday spirit has won and a menu was settled upon. I dashed to the kitchen and began pulling bags of dried cranberries, chocolate chips, cocoa powder and chestnut cream, flour and eggs from the cupboards and lined them up on the countertop next to my collection of holiday dvds. I was in a festive mood and ready to make cookies, cakes and puddings! Son had offered to bring the apératif, fingerfoods to accompany the chilling bottle of Prosecco in the refrigerator, smoked salmon with herbed crème fraîche on blinis, black olive tapenade on slices of baguette topped with sun-dried tomatoes, wedges of foie gras on dark bread topped with sweet and sour onion compote. Christmas music, Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra and the Andrews Sisters, rang out from husband’s ipad which he had kindly set up for me, baking and singing, merry, indeed.

And of course, JP prepared his Christmas Eve masterpiece, an extra special luxury cheese fondue, a heady blend of cheeses, Gruyère, Emmenthal, bleu de Gex and a bit of Roquefort, white wine and kirsch and a touch of garlic.


And I was in charge of dessert.

I had been asked specifically to prepare a traditional bûche de noël, a yule log. Clem was adamant, nothing else would do! My most untraditional son was taken over by the holiday spirit and demanded a veritable bûche. Yet, when he heard that his father wanted nothing more than something light and fruity to follow such a heavy, rich meal as a cheese fondue, exhorted that I make nothing fancier than homey Apple Crisps, son became relentless in his campaign for a bûche, popping up on my Facebook page

Are you trying to escape from your bûche assignment?? 

My favorite Christmas cookie is BÛCHE! And my favorite movie is BACK TO THE BÛCHE!

Well, he was right. I mean…Apple Crisp? For Christmas dinner? Why not a traditional bûche de noël that had been specifically requested and might just very well have been promised? Or a fancy Chocolate Chip Zuccotto or Chocolate Chestnut Charlotte, each dressed to impress? These rich, showy confections veritably scream Christmas… or Noël, as the case may be. What had I been thinking? And so I defied JP’s wishes and logic and I gave into my son’s, the old Christmas Spirit chasing away my nonchalance and practicality. Tis the season for mirth and joy!

Christmas is doing a little something extra for someone. 
Charles M. Schulz 

A Bûche de Noël.


Happy, happy Christmas, that can win us back to the delusions of our childhood days, recall to the old man the pleasures of his youth, and transport the traveler back to his own fireside and quiet home! - Charles Dickens


Follow this link to Plated Stories for our latest posts Frozen, Light and Holiday. All in the seasonal spirit.

AND there are still spaces available at our Plated Stories Workshop being held the last ten days of May in Italy (still time to plan!). The workshop will be dedicated to food writing, food photography and styling, inspiration, ideas and creativity. And there will be fabulous Italian food and visits to many Tuscan cities.

Did you know that I received a wonderful Christmas box from the people at Peeps? Yes, a box full of holiday marshmallow Peeps and I wrote all about it – and how I, after more than 25 years, got a Frenchman with Grinch-like tendencies – to eat and like Peeps! Find it here on Huffington Post!

And in case you missed it, find my story about Rémy Anézo, pigeon breeder extraordinaire, here on Modern Farmer.

Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, 
and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, 
become a child again at Christmas-time. 
Laura Ingalls Wilder 


This year's Bûche de Noël

BÛCHE DE NOËL

Please read through the entire recipe – the genoise, the filling and the frosting – so you can best organize and time each step. The genoise will need time to cool rolled up in a cloth and the cream filling needs a bit of time to chill in the refrigerator before assembling the bûche.


For the Rum Sugar Syrup

Scant half cup (100 ml) water
Scant 3/8 cup (80 g) sugar
2 - 3 Tbs rum

Place the water with the sugar in a small saucepan and bring to the boil. Let boil for 2 minutes then remove from the heat. Stir in the rum. Set aside to cool to room temperature. Can be made the day before.

For the Genoise:
This is a magnificent genoise for any jellyroll cake any time of the year. Simple to make.

4 large eggs, separated
½ cup (100 g) sugar
½ tsp vanilla
4/5 cup (100 g) flour
Powdered/confectioner’s sugar and a sifter or sieve

Preheat the oven to 375°F (190°C). Line a 15 ½ x 10 ½ x ¾ inch (40 x 27 x 2 cm) jellyroll pan with parchment paper and lightly butter the parchment. Have a clean dishtowel larger than the jellyroll pan as well as a clean flat baking sheet ready.

Separate the eggs, placing the yolks in large mixing bowl and the whites in a very clean medium-sized bowl (I prefer plastic). If you like, add a tiny pinch of salt and 2 drops lemon juice to the whites to help stabilize them. Add the sugar to the yolks and beat with an electric mixer on high until thick, creamy and pale, about 3 minutes. Beat in the vanilla.

Using very clean beaters, beat the whites until peaks hold and the meringue is thick. Fold the whites into the yolk/sugar mixture gently but firmly using a spatula, a third of the whites at a time, alternating with the flour in two or three additions. Do not over mix/fold but do make sure there are no more clumps of whites visible, no more pockets of flour. 

Spread the batter evenly in the parchment-lined jellyroll pan. Bake in the preheated oven for about 15 minutes or until puffed, golden and the cake springs back when lightly pressed.

Remove from the oven. Immediately slide the parchment paper and cake together onto the extra large flat baking sheet. Invert the warm jellyroll pan and place on top of the genoise and, holding both the jellyroll pan and the baking sheet firmly together, flip them over and remove the baking sheet; the top of the genoise is now face down while the parchment paper is up. Peel off the parchment paper. Dust a light layer of powdered sugar all over the genoise and then place the clean dishtowel over the genoise. Once again place the clean baking sheet inverted on the dishtowel-covered cake and, holding the baking sheet and the jellyroll pan firmly together, flip. Remove the jellyroll pan.

You should now have the warm genoise topside up on the clean dishtowel on the clean flat baking sheet. Dust the top of the genoise with a light layer of powder sugar and, starting on a short end of the cake, roll the genoise up – gently but as tightly as possible without crushing or breaking the cake - in the towel (the towel will be rolled up with the cake). Allow to cool completely.

For the Chestnut Mascarpone Cream Filling:

½ cup (125 ml) chilled heavy whipping cream
Scant ½ tsp powdered unflavored gelatin + 2 Tbs cold water
½ cup (125 g) fresh mascarpone cheese
Small can (3.5 oz/100 g) crème de marrons (sweetened chestnut cream) *

* If you do not have crème de marrons, you can simply fold in powdered sugar (not too sweet), chocolate hazelnut spread, a splash of rum or orange liqueur or grated chocolate.

Place the 2 tablespoons cold water in a small saucepan; sprinkle the gelatin over the surface of the water and let sit for 5 minutes to soften the gelatin. Place the pan over a very low heat to warm the water and melt the gelatin – you want to heat the water for about 5 minutes without allowing it to come to a boil or to boil away: allow the water to heat then, holding the pan just off of the flame/heat, swirling and whisking constantly, allow the bit of water to stay heated for long enough to allow the gelatin to melt. After the 5 minutes, remove from the heat and allow to cool for 5 minutes or until barely tepid to the touch.

Beat the heavy cream in a chilled bowl until thick and soft peaks hold. Continue beating as you pour the gelatin water into the heavy cream in a slow stream.

Beat in the mascarpone then the chestnut cream.

Place in the refrigerator to chill for at least an hour to allow the gelatin to add body to the filling.

For the Chocolate Mascarpone Frosting:

2.8 oz (80 g) dark chocolate (70%)
Between 3/8 and ½ cups (100 ml) heavy cream
About 3 Tbs leftover Chestnut Mascarpone Filling or Mascarpone Cheese

Coarsely chop the chocolate and place in a heatproof/Pyrex bowl. Place the cream in a small saucepan and heat just to the boil. Pour the steaming cream over the chocolate, allow to sit for a minute and then stir vigorously with a whisk or spatula until all of the chocolate is melted and the mixture is homogeanous, smooth and thickening. Mixing/whisking occasionally, allow the chocolate ganache to cool and thicken, placing it in the refrigerator for a bit if needed. Once cooled and thickened (or beginning to thicken – it should not harden) beat it with either leftover filling or mascarpone to lighten, just as much as needed and desired. 

Assemble the Bûche:

When the genoise is completely cool, carefully unroll and slide off the dishtowel and onto a clean sheet of parchment paper or work surface. Brush/dab a generous amount of the Rum Syrup all over the genoise, as much or as little as desired – the more one uses, the stronger the rum flavor will be as it infuses the cake and the moister the genoise will become; use at least half of the syrup if not a bit more. Spread the Chestnut Mascarpone Cream Filling evenly over the genoise; I saved about 3 tablespoons to use for the frosting. Starting at the short end of the genoise (the end rolled up first in the towel to cool), roll up the cake as tightly as possible without pressing or rolling so tightly that the cream oozes out (see the photo of my finished cake to see how mine was rolled). When completely rolled, scrape off any filling that has oozed out. Using a sharp or serrated knife, trim off both ends of the bûche to even out the ends. Very carefully, lift the bûche onto the serving platter, placing the seam side down.

At this point, I covered the bûche and the platter with plastic wrap and refrigerated it for an hour or two (the time it took to prepare dinner) to allow the filling to firm up.

Before serving, spread the Chocolate Frosting all over the bûche and decorate as desired.


Chocolate Chestnut Rum Bundt Cake & a Workshop

AN EXCITING ANNOUNCEMENT

“Think left and think right and think low and think high. 
Oh, the thinks you can think up if only you try” 
Dr. Seuss 


“Creativity is contagious, pass it on” 
Albert Einstein 

Most of my readers know that as much as I love writing, I love teaching writing as well. Inspiring others to write. I have helped create conferences and workshops, spoken and taught. I love the creative energy that sparks, flames and electrifies, that fills a room and overflows when a group of passionate writers and photographers gather, discuss and work. Most of my readers know that Ilva Beretta and I together created the Plated Stories blog as a purely creative endeavor, allowing us a space where we can explore, find new ways to express ourselves, break away from the expectations of what a food blog is.

And now we are excited to announce the creation of the first Plated Stories Workshop! Partnering with Tuscan Muse in Italy, the workshop is part of an extraordinary 10-day experience with Tuscan Muse and will be dedicated to food writing (I will be teaching) and food photography and styling (with the super talented Ilva teaching).

Discover the Plated Stories workshop by clicking over to the Tuscan Muse website. The five days will include intensive, hands-on exercises in both food writing and styling/photography, heady discussion and lively exchange. The workshop will include a cooking class with chef Enrico Casini, photowalks in stunning Tuscany and the city of Pienza, fabulous Italian food and all in a divine and inspiring setting.




Food Photography Indoors & Out!


Boost your writing creativity & hone your skills in a fabulous setting!

The Plated Stories workshop will be held at Le Casacce agriturismo among the olive trees in the heart of the Val d’Orcia. Once the workshop is over, you will take your camera and your imagination and continue on the voyage with Tuscan Muse, discovering the magic of Tuscany.

Plated Stories the blog is all about finding inspiration and tapping into our creativity, pushing ourselves beyond our own limits. This is exactly what we will help you do at Plated Stories the workshop: you will be inspired to take that step beyond and you will learn how to channel your creativity in new ways for your own purpose, be it for your blog, professional work or a hobby.

A great workshop in a convivial, joyous atmosphere!

Take a look at the workshop description and itinerary. Spaces are limited (allowing so much more personal guidance, critique and one-on-one time with both Ilva and I) so sign up/register quick quick! This will surely be a great adventure and we would love for you to join us!

All in Italy!

Take note: The Plated Stories workshop is organized and managed by Tuscan Muse so any questions about the workshop week and organization, travel, location, cost, meals, etc should be addressed to Tuscan Muse (find the link here). Ilva and I are teaching the workshop, so any question about the workshop program itself feel free to leave in a comment below or by emailing us privately at platedstories (at) gmail (dot) com. Also, please let us know if you would like to be put on the Plated Stories email list to receive further information as well as the Plated Stories newsletter by contacting us at platedstories (at) gmail (dot) com




And to celebrate our newest venture, I baked a cake ! I started with my Chocolate Spice Cake with Sour Black Cherries in Syrup and replaced the cherries with sweetened chestnut cream and the vanilla with rum. The result is much lighter and more tender than I expected, a beautiful balance of chocolate and chestnut with a lingering hint of rum. Perfect for breakfast, snack or dessert. 



CHOCOLATE RUM CHESTNUT BUNDT CAKE

Makes one 9-inch (23 cm) Bundt – can also be baked in layers or in a loaf pan but adjust baking time as needed.

7 Tbs (100 g) unsalted butter, softened to room temperature
1 cup (200 g) sugar
2 large eggs at room temperature
1 ¾ cup (230 g) flour
3 Tbs (25 g) unsweetened cocoa powder
2 tsp baking powder
½ tsp ground cinnamon
¼ tsp salt
7/8 cup (200 ml) milk
2 Tbs rum, cognac, Grand Marnier or Cointreau (or replace with 1 tsp vanilla)
4 Tbs (100 g) crème de marrons (sweetened chestnut cream)

Preheat the oven to 350°F (180°C). Butter a 9-inch (23 cm) Bundt pan – (or two 9-inch layer cake pans or one loaf pan). Lightly flour the pan and knock out all the excess. 

Place the softened butter and the sugar in a large mixing bowl. Using a hand or stand mixer, cream the butter and sugar for about 3 minutes until thick, smooth and doubled in volume. Beat in the eggs one at a time, beating for a minute after each addition to increase the volume of the batter.

Stir or sift together the flour, cocoa powder, baking powder, cinnamon and salt in a separate bowl. Add the rum to the milk.

Add the dry ingredients to the batter in three additions, alternating with the milk/rum in two, beginning and ending with dry, beating after each addition until well blended.


Beat in the Chestnut Cream. Carefully ladle the batter into the pan and gently smooth the top if needed and place in the preheated oven.

Bake for 45 – 50 minutes (Note: if using layer cake pans or a loaf pan and depending upon your oven, baking times may vary greatly, so begin checking the cake for doneness after 35 minutes.) The cake is done when a tester stuck into the center of the cake comes out clean - or cleanish, with no liquid batter.

Remove from the oven onto cooling racks and allow to cool for 10 – 15 minutes before gently shaking the cake lose and turning it out of the baking pan and onto a cooling rack to cool completely.

Slide the cake onto a serving platter, dust with a bit of cocoa powder and serve. For an elegant dessert, serve the cake with very lightly sweetened whipped cream, rum-spiked whipped cream or ice cream (rum raisin!).



CHOCOLATE CHESTNUT CLOUD CAKES

AND LET THE FESTIVITIES BEGIN!

There is probably a smell of roasted chestnuts and other good comfortable things all the time, 
for we are telling Winter Stories – Ghost Stories, or more shame for us – round the Christmas fire; and we have never stirred, except to draw a little nearer to it. 
Charles Dickens 


Hanukkah has come upon us in a rush, almost unexpectedly. Surrounded by the remains of our renovations, pampering a sick dog, befuddled and amazed by the busy-bee energy of our normally slow-as-molasses son, time has slipped by at an almost unreal pace and we are astonished when we realize that it has only been a month since our move. Four, maybe five short weeks. It feels like we have been here forever emptying cartons, stepping over heaps of tools, tripping over coils of wire, making so many trips to the dump it has my head in a spin! And now Hanukkah has arrived and I am just not ready.

Son and I go hunting for Hanukkah gifts as the afternoon light wanes, just before rushing home to light the first candle. Late, as usual. We join the jungle of bodies, the swell of humanity clutching bags and boxes, children crying, parents hustling youngsters in and out of shops trying to retain some semblance of dignity and holiday cheer. Son hurries me, skirting the gawkers, reminding me of what we are there for and urging me onward only wanting to be home. But I am caught up in the festive air of the city, bedazzled by the neons, the garlands, the flurry of Santa hats bobbing up and down the streets. The brisk chill invigorates and the Hanukkah spirit is upon me and all I want to do is drift, weightless, carried along on the sights and sounds and smells of Christmas.

I’m just a little sentimental this time of year as the skies deepen to a dull slate gray, misty and mysterious. We venture out at night, brilliant bulbs in green, red, blue and white piercing the blackness, flickering, floating, fairy lights leading us towards the center of town. Noise and laughter rise and swirl around us like snow as we are swept along in the bustling crowd, pushed and pulled in between the brightly lit wooden stalls of the Christmas market. The smells of popcorn and churros mingle with the heady, spicy scent of mulled wine, the salty, smoky fragrance of sausages coming from the booth hawking some far-off regional delicacies, making us yearn to approach, lulled like fairytale children, spellbound, being pulled towards a candy-covered fantasy of sweets and the warmth of a blazing hearth. Images of my mom far away, thoughts of my brother rush in to fill up the spaces in my head between plans for our own festivities and the jollity and mirth, the lightness and wellbeing now mingled with emptiness, tainted by sadness. My son tugs on my sleeve, gives me a gentle nudge in the back and I turn my attention to the stands of books and the bins of dvds.

The holidays back home, the holidays of my childhood, weren’t swathed in snow or faded into a misty Winter Wonderland; no children bundled up in thick, puffs of coat, stuffing hands into mittens, tucking ever-dancing feet into boots, tugging knitted bonnets on heads. Bright bulbs flashed against crystal clear skies, luminaries flickered up and down neighborhood streets against a backdrop of deep, lush green grass. Mornings were indeed punctuated by entertaining stalagmites sprouting up from neighbors’ garden sprinklers; Santas galore were perched upon rooftops dressed in flowered cotton shirts, shorts and flip flops, ready for the balmy Florida season. By afternoon, the morning’s jackets were peeled off and we were down to warm weather outfits as we piled into the station wagon to go Hanukkah shopping with mom. We had the only house on the block, in the neighborhood, bare of decorations, the only wreathless front door. No strings of lights hung from the eaves, no garlands graced the front window. My parents were discreet, practical and sober when it came to holidays. A lone Menorah stood in the livingroom, one gift per night, a gift we had most likely chosen ourselves, was handed to each of us before we gathered around the table for a game of dreidl, peanuts or M & M’s our tokens of choice. And we were happy that way, happy being together, laughing, singing, playing with our toys. For eight nights, brightened by the candles’ flames.


Chestnuts are delicacies for princes and a lusty and masculine food for rusticks, 
and able to make women well-complexioned.
John Evelyn, 1620 – 1706 


No chestnuts found their way into our kitchen, nor graced our holiday table. Foreign, they were, to us Floridians who spent the winter eating citrus morning, noon and night. Pies in pumpkin, apple and cherry were reserved for Thanksgiving as was bird and sticky sweet marshmallow sweet potato casserole. A plate of latkes was our Hanukkah treat along with a tiny bag of Hanukkah gelt, thick chocolate coins wrapped in glittering, shiny gold foil, counted out, made to last eight days. These simple traditions have found their way into my own home as we, husband, two sons and I, gather round the old family Menorah, the same from my childhood, lighting the candles for eight nights, exchanging gifts and enjoying our time together.

No, no special holidays meals for Hanukkah, yet this time of year I love to bake and cook with those special seasonal ingredients that, for me, are forever linked to a joyous, sprightly winter: pumpkins and apples, oranges and chestnuts. And when I can add chocolate to the mix, well, don’t I just do it. After my recent escapade into decadence the result of which, a Chocolate Chestnut Fondant, was received with merriment, gobbled down by one and all, I decided to try yet another chocolate chestnut delicacy with the rest of the can of Crème de Marrons. This Chocolate Chestnut Cloud Cake gets its airiness from thick, creamy meringue which is folded ever so gently into chocolate and butter, flavored by chestnut cream and a festive splash of Cointreau, my tipple of choice this season. I first baked one single fluted cake and then repeated the recipe baking individual portions, mini Bundts and tiny cakes. And the holidays call for something more, a bit special, so each cake was drizzled with Chocolate Orange Ganache.




These wonderfully festive treats are perfect for December’s Monthly Mingle, created by my Zesty Sister and fellow Plate to Page instructor Meeta. This month’s host, my talented friend Simone of Junglefrog Cooking, asked us to bake Christmas Cakes and that is just what this Chocolate Chestnut Cloud Cake is!






CHOCOLATE CHESTNUT CLOUD CAKE with Chocolate Orange Ganache
Adapted from Crème de Marrons les 30 recettes culte by Sandra Mahut

5.3 oz (150 g) dark chocolate 70% cacao, broken into pieces
9 Tbs (135 g) unsalted butter
3 rounded/heaping Tbs (150 g) chestnut cream (crème de marrons Clément Faugier)
3 Tbs (30 g) flour
3 Tbs (20 g) unsweetened cocoa powder
5 large eggs, separated
½ cup (100 g) granulated sugar
1 Tbs Cointreau, optional

Orange Chocolate Ganache (this recipe can easily be halved):
3.5 oz (100 g) Lindt Excellence Orange Intense or equivalent orange-scented dark chocolate
½ cup (125 ml) heavy cream

Or confectioner’s/powdered sugar and unsweetened cocoa powder for dusting

Preheat the oven to 325-335°F (170°C). Butter and flour either a medium-sized Bundt or fluted tube pan or about 18 – 20 individual cupcake or mini-Bundt molds.

Place the butter and the broken chocolate into a medium-sized Pyrex or heatproof bowl. Melt gently either in a bain-marie, over a pot of gently simmering water or in the microwave; barely 1 minute on high heat in the microwave should melt the butter completely and more than partially, but not completely, melt the chocolate. Remove from the heat/microwave and stir or whisk until the chocolate is completely melted and the mixture well blended and smooth. Add the 3 heaping tablespoons of chestnut cream/crème de marrons and whisk to blend.

Measure the flour and the cocoa powder together into a small bowl and then sift the two onto the chocolate/butter/chestnut mixture. Whisk to blend until smooth. Whisk in the Cointreau, if using.

Separate the eggs, placing the 5 clean whites into a large, very clean bowl ideal for whipping meringue – I prefer plastic. If you like, add a drop of lemon juice and a few grains of salt to help stabilize the whites. Using an electric mixer, beat the whites for 30 seconds on low speed then increase speed to high; beat for about 2 minutes until the whites are no longer foamy, are white and opaque and soft peaks hold. Begin gradually beating in the sugar, about a teaspoon at a time while continuing to beat on high speed. This should take another couple of minutes. Continue to beat until all of the sugar is incorporated and the meringue is very thick. The entire process should take about 5 minutes.

Beat the egg yolks into the meringue one at a time, beating on medium or high speed, beating in each yolk just to combine.

Using a spatula, fold the yolky meringue into the chocolate batter, adding and folding in a quarter of the meringue at a time. Do not overmix.

Spoon into the molds and bake for not more than 30 minutes (if making one large cake, this could bake up to double the time depending on the pan and the oven). When done, the top should be set, dull (no longer shiny) and lightly crispy. The cake should spring back when gently pressed and a tester inserted in the cake should come out clean.

Remove from the oven and allow to cool in the pan until completely cool before gently loosening and turning out.


Prepare the ganache while waiting for the cakes to cool by chopping the chocolate and placing in a heatproof bowl. Bring the cream just to the boil and pour over the chopped chocolate. Stir until the chocolate is completely melted and the ganache well blended, smooth and creamy. Leave to thicken at room temperature, stirring occasionally, until drizzling consistency. If you like, allow to get very thick and then thin with a bit of Cointreau. Spoon onto individual cakes or slices as serving. Top with sugar pearls or other festive sugar decorations.

CHOCOLATE CINNAMON MACS WITH ORANGE & CHESTNUT

FALLING INTO FALL


My son shakes his head in dismay and disappointment as he stares at the screen. “You are doing it all wrong,” he exclaims, speaking to me as if I was a wayward, naughty child caught with my hand in the cake batter, chocolate smeared across my face. He grabs the laptop and begins to scroll through other blogs that he has discovered, pointing out that I, too, need to reduce my words to the bare minimum and simply offer my readers recipes and only recipes, easy to make, easy to find, easy to access. “Who wants to read through long, rambling stories on a food blog?” I have heard, sadly I might add, the same or something similar from my husband and older son as well. “But what,” I ask them, my heart pounding, breath coming short and fast, “do I do with my stories? I am, after all, first and foremost a writer! I can’t just stop writing, can I? You know what they say… A writer writes….always!

And my darling, talented friend Nanette tells me that I am limiting myself too much, trying to contain my writing to food and that I should expand my platform. And maybe she is right. Yes, okay, Nanette is always right. But what’s a girl to do, a girl with limited time and limited finances?

So my solution is this: alternate my posts, every other one a story, every other one a recipe. More or less. And so it goes.


I have been away too long. New Orleans, Florida, Oman. Out of the loop. Behind. Shamefully behind. Deeba was left all alone to handle Mactweets but happily our little Mac Attack challenge was left in perfect hands. She selected and posted this month’s challenge while I was off wandering the world, watching American television shows about serial killers and enjoying myself. The theme she offered us was Seasonal Macarons and as we roll gently and lazily into my favorite season, autumn, this couldn’t delight me more. Thoughts of October in Tuscany, cooking and snapping photos in Italy and talking passionately about what I love the best, writing, is filling up every waking hour and dotting every conversation as we finalize details for our second From Plate to Page workshop. I have always loved fall the best, maybe because I grew up in a place where fall just doesn’t exist. I adore the cool, crisp weather, the clear blue skies, the gentle breeze that floats through the house when we throw the French windows open onto a beautiful autumn day. Strolls through the vineyards or a romp in the woods with Marty and JP are comforting and enjoyable. The trees turn rustic, mellow, gorgeous, fading from green to burnished reds and matted orange. Summer with just a hint of winter, the promise of holidays and my world turns into a place I want to stay forever.

And the food! Yes, I’ll miss summer’s cherries and plums, peaches and nectarines, but autumn fruits are beginning to show up now, teasing and tempting and inspiring thoughts of Halloween, Thanksgiving and the approach of the holidays. Rosh Hashana, the Jewish New Year, highlights apples and sweet golden honey, almonds and hazelnuts, an abundance of foods of the earth in greens and golds, creamy browns and deep purple. Figs and pears and mushrooms of all sorts tumble from rough wooden crates lined up at the Primeur’s stall whispering to me, inviting me to take them home. And citrus. Oranges and grapefruit make their first tentative appearance and nothing means cold weather to me better than the oranges and yellows of citrus, my childhood rushing back to me with each glimpse of those fragrant heaps of fruit.


Yes, I love autumn best of all. But what do I love so much to inspire a seasonal macaron? The first thing that popped into my mind was orange and chocolate. This combination of flavors brings back family holidays with a bound: each year we offer ourselves elegantly beribboned sachets of chocolate-covered candy orange peel from the best chocolatier in Nantes, slowly savoring them one by one as we sit side by side on the livingroom sofa of an evening. Orange and chocolate together remind me of autumn as it slips into winter, as one Jewish holiday fades into another, bringing us closer together mother, father, sons and brothers.

And chestnuts. How I love chestnuts in both savories and sweets. A wonderful chestnut layer cake beautifully layered with chocolate-chestnut cream and covered in chocolate buttercream is a favorite dessert, astonishing friends who clamor for more. Who thinks of autumn or winter without thinking of chestnuts…roasting over an open fire, imparting a fabulous, earthy, woodsy scent, wrapping us in a blanket of memories?


Chocolate cinnamon macarons – cinnamon synonymous with baking, warm, toasty kitchens, scrumptious holiday snacks and lazy Sunday mornings – sandwiching a rich, creamy dark chocolate ganache. And more: in half the macarons I placed a dollop of tangy, sweet and bitter orange marmalade and in half I added a smear of chestnut cream. What flavors say autumn more than chocolate combined with orange or chestnut?


MY FAVORITE CHOCOLATE MACARONS

7.2 oz (200 g) confectioner’s/powdered sugar
4 oz (115 g) ground blanched almonds
3 large egg whites (about 3.8 – 4 oz/ 110 – 112 g)
1 oz (30 g) white granulated sugar
1 Tbs unsweetened cocoa powder
½ tsp ground cinnamon

Prepare 2 large baking sheets. On 2 large pieces of white paper the size of your baking sheets, trace 1 – inch diameter circles (I used the wide end of my pastry tip) evenly spaced, leaving about ¾ - 1 inch between each circle. This will be your template to help you pipe even circles of batter onto the parchment paper. You will be able to reuse these endlessly. Place one paper on each baking sheet then cover with parchment paper. Set aside. Prepare a pastry bag with a plain tip.

Sift the powdered sugar, the ground almonds, the cocoa powder and the cinnamon together into a large mixing bowl. Set aside.

In a standing mixer or with a hand mixer, whip the egg whites for 30 seconds on low speed then increase speed to high and whip until the whites are foamy. Gradually add the granulated sugar as you continue to whip the whites until you obtain a glossy meringue and all of the sugar has been beaten in. The meringue will be very stiff (turn the bowl upside down over your head and they shouldn’t move) and be dense like marshmallow.

Gently but firmly fold the whipped whites into the powdered sugar/ground almonds/cocoa, using a silicon spatula or the equivalent, turning the bowl as you lift and fold, making sure you fold in all the dry ingredients completely. When the batter is ready to pipe, it should flow from the spatula like lava or a thick ribbon. To test to see if you have folded it enough, drop a small amount onto a clean plate and jiggle it slightly. The top should flatten, not remain in a point. If it doesn’t flatten, give the batter a few more folds and test again. You can also fold the powdered mixture into the meringue if it is easier for you.

Fill your pastry bag with the batter. Pipe circles onto the parchment paper, using the traced circles on the template sheets to guide you, holding your pastry bag above each circle and piping into the center. DO NOT FORGET TO CAREFULLY REMOVE THE WHITE PAPER TEMPLATE FROM UNDERNEATH THE PARCHMENT PAPER. YOU DO NOT WANT THIS TEMPLATE TO GO IN THE OVEN!


Preheat your oven to 280°F (140°C).

Allow the macarons to sit out for about an hour or even longer if the shells are not ready to bake. The top of each shell should form a “skin” (it will feel like it hardened a bit when gently touched and not stick to your skin). Bake the shells for 15 – 25 minutes, depending on their size (when I touched macs that were not quite done, the top jiggled a bit as if there was still a bit of liquid batter between the top and the “feet” so I let it continue to bake another minute.) I turn the trays back to front halfway through the baking.

Remove the tray from the oven and immediately slide the parchment paper with the shells off of the hot baking sheet and onto a surface, table or countertop. Allow to cool completely before sliding the shells very gently off of the parchment by slipping a metal cake spatula under the shell as you lift it up or by peeling the parchment paper from the back of the shells. Be careful or the center of the shell risks sticking to the parchment.


When the macaron shells are cool, pair the shells up evenly, each with a matching partner. Smear a half teaspoon or more of either orange marmalade or sweetened chestnut cream onto the bottom shell of each pair. Pipe a dollop, about a teaspoon, of ganache filling on top of the marmalade or chestnut cream. Carefully sandwich the shells together.


CHOCOLATE GANACHE
Feel free to use a bittersweet or semisweet chocolate or any of the flavored chocolates now available – orange chocolate, for example, in your ganache.

Optional but highly recommended
A few tablespoons bitter or sweet orange marmalade
A few tablespoons vanilla-scented sweetened chestnut cream

½ cup (125 ml) heavy cream
4 ¼ oz (120 g) Lindt Excellence 70% Dark Chocolate (I used Doux) or your favorite chocolate

Chop the chocolate and put in an appropriately-sized pyrex (heatproof) bowl. Heat the cream in a saucepan gently until it comes just to the boil. Pour the cream over the chopped chocolate and stir until all of the chocolate is completely melted and the mixture is smooth and luxurious. Allow to cool to room temperature, stirring occasionally. It should thicken to a spreading/piping consistency. If you need to, speed up the process by placing in the refrigerator until desired spreading/piping consistency, stirring occasionally.


FONDANTS CHATAIGNE GANACHE AU CHOCOLATE

Tender Chestnut Bundlet Fondants with Chocolate Ganache


FOR THE BOYS


Is it Spring yet? If they can’t bring me snow then it might as well be spring. I glance out the window and up into the steely skies and wonder if it is as chilly out as I imagine it is or is it only cold inside this old, rambling apartment? We are still eating soup every single night for dinner, and how cozy it is! The young dudes have a surprising three week vacation so are here at our house every single day working, working, working late into the night. I love the noise and bustle, the chatter of youthful voices, the bouncing excitement of Marty as he attempts hourly to insinuate himself into the all-male crowd. JP and I enjoy a salad at noon then sneak into the kitchen in the early evening to prepare our soup and cheese platter (are we Old Folks now?), making a quick getaway, leaving the kitchen open to the guys. Bowls of spaghetti with pesto, hunks of cheese and entire loaves of bread fuel their young bodies and minds, the clatter of silverware, pots and pans and laughter drowned out by the music blaring from the tiny kitchen radio perched atop the shiny red shelves. Happy is this mother when she hears the rush of the tap water and the cheerful jabbering as the young dudes wash the sink full of dishes, leaving a clean kitchen for me to find the following morning.

And three complete weeks of a houseful of twenty-somethings means that I can bake and bake to my heart’s content. I peek my head around the corner of the bedroom door and ask “Cake?” as three pairs of eyes turn towards me and light up! The fourth pair of lovely brown eyes rolls heavenward in annoyance and disgust at his mother once again pushing cake and cookies at his friends, yet aren’t the rest of them thrilled with the offerings of dessert and snack? I push open the door and walk in unasked, unannounced, platter of cookies or cakes held aloft as Marty prances around my feet, and simply place the plate on the edge of the desk, smile and leave. They glance nervously in Clem’s direction, wondering if they can partake and enjoy without his disdain, without feeling as if they are abetting the opposition, in cahoots with his baking mom, stepping over into enemy territory. Yet hours later after they have all packed up and headed home, I go to collect the cake platter and find it empty. “Was it good?” I wonder aloud. “Yes,” he answers grudgingly, loathe to admit that what I have baked was enjoyed by one and all, including himself.


I have said it before and I stand by my former statements: I am not one who enjoys making tiny things: cookies are my bane, and no matter how much I love grabbing a handful and nibbling on a stack of great, moist, chewy cookies, one after the next, while curled up with a good book, the making of them is highly overrated: It is hard, time-consuming work demanding an entire afternoon with nose stuck to the oven window, the most unforgiving of all baked goods. Those, like myself, who are easily distracted or wildly undisciplined multi-taskers are hopeless cookie burners. Cupcakes are not my piece of cake, truth be told, fussy and feminine, less enticing than a thick slice of cake where all the dense, moist, chocolaty goodness is there for all the world to see, offering itself up to you openly, unfalteringly, not coy like the cupcake all wrapped up in a paper casing, hidden under an overpowering slather of icing, never giving you the choice of how much you are allowed to eat. Yet…yet, once in a while the right recipe comes along or just the situation in which a tiny this or an individual that is somehow just perfect! Tiramisù molded in perfect rounds and served up on single dessert plates, one per person, is sexy indeed, giving each guest the feeling of luxury and being pampered by the offering of something so gorgeous, rich and voluptuous, so personal. Single glasses of thick, creamy puddings, panna cotta or crème brulée are delightful, grab one out of the refrigerator any time, day or night, and indulge without disturbing the others. And individual tiny Bundlet cakes, the most attractive shape like something royal, popped out of the pan, baring itself and all of its goodness to the world unhampered by paper wrappings and drizzled with a sensuous draping of velvety smooth, glistening chocolate ganache. Now that is worth the effort!

So as the boys work, I bake and I tiptoe into the room where they are working in a haze of youthful energy and passion and carefully and silently place a platter of meltingly smooth fondants before them. A fondant is simply a cake so moist and tender that it melts in the mouth, so light and ethereal it disappears in a flash, fading into a sweet afterthought. The chestnut flour gives these cakes a rather strange yet intriguing, addictive, nutty yet deeply earthy flavor, a perfect pairing with the deep bittersweet chocolate ganache, subduing the sweetness of the cake just so, adding a chocolate zing to the chestnut just so, making a wonderfully luxurious, absolutely intense, complex, irresistible combination.


My individual Chestnut Fondant Bundlets and mini-cupcakes with Chocolate Ganache are just perfect for this month’s Monthly Mingle, created by our own lovely, talented Meeta of What’s For Lunch, Honey? This month hostess with the mostess is my wonderful friend Astrid of Paulchen’s Foodblog and her theme is Small Bites… just like my cakelets!



I would also love to share this with Ivonne of Cream Puffs in Venice for Magazine Mondays. This recipe is based on Fondant Châtaigne-Chocolat found in French Saveurs février 2011.

If you haven’t decided on that special dessert to offer your beloved on Valentine’s Day, I have two wonderful ideas on Huffington Post Food, a luxurious, sexy Tiramisù and a rich, decadent Flourless Chocolate Truffle Torte. Two amazing ways to say « I Love You ».


FONDANTS CHATAIGNE GANACHE AU CHOCOLATE
Chestnut Fondant Bundlets with Chocolate Ganache

Makes 12 mini Bundt cakes + 24 mini cupcakes
- or – 24 mini Bundt cakes – or – 24 cupcakes

(5.3 oz,150 g) chestnut flour
1.8 oz (50 g) cake flour
7.7 oz (220 g) sugar
¼ tsp salt
7 oz (200 g) unsalted butter
4 large eggs, separated
7/8 cup (200 ml) milk
Butter for greasing the tins, paper casings for lining muffin tins

Chocolate Ganache:

3.6 oz (100 g) bittersweet or semisweet chocolate, chopped
½ cup (125 ml) heavy cream

Prepare the ganache by bringing the heavy cream to a boil in a small saucepan and then pouring it over the chopped chocolate in a heatproof (Pyrex) bowl. Stir until the chocolate is completely melted and perfectly smooth. Leave to cool at room temperature.

Prepare the Chestnut Fondants:

Preheat the oven to 350°F (180°C). Generously butter the Bundtlet tins and line the muffin tins with paper casings.

Melt the butter in a small saucepan over low heat, removing from the heat when the butter is almost but not quite melted. Stir off of the heat until all of the butter is melted. Put aside to cool a bit.

In a large mixing bowl bowl, sift the chestnut flour with the cake flour then stir in the sugar and the salt. Whisk to combine.

Add the egg yolks to the dry ingredients and whisk, adding the butter as you blend. Add the milk and whisk until everything is well blended.

Using an electric mixer or beaters with very clean beaters, whip the whites until stiff peaks hold. Using a spatula, fold the beaten whites into the chestnut cake batter in thirds until the whites are completely blended in and no white chunks are visible. Do not overfold or you risk breaking the whites and losing the air.

Carefully fill the tins with batter filling up almost but not quite to the rims. To make this easier, you can either use a soup ladle or pour the batter into a large glass measuring cup with a spout or lip.

Bake the Bundlets for 20 minutes until puffed, set and just golden. Remove from the oven and allow to cool for about 5 minutes or so in the tins before carefully lifting or turning them out onto cooling racks to cool completely.


Before serving, drizzle the cooled chocolate ganache (thick but still pouring consistency) over the Bundlets and cupcakes.


If you prefer, you can fold about a cup (100 g) of mini chocolate chips into the batter instead of glazing with the ganache.


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