Cognac Panna Cotta with Salted Butter Caramel

VALENTINE’S DAY

If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day 

so I never have to live without you. 

- A. A. Milne 

I never had a Valentine before JP. I was one of the hopelessly, heartbreakingly, perpetually Valentine-less. No surprise, really, considering I was an ugly duckling. No golden tresses dancing in the ocean breeze, no long, slender legs that seem to go on forever, no Florida bronzed beauty was I. Like the others. Alas, life was cruel. Even as I got older and moved away from home, all grown up, I was forever the plain Jane, spunky, practical and domestic, merely a foil to the popular, the gorgeous, the desired.


Valentine’s Day and Cupid’s arrows slid past, one after another, boyfriend-less year after boyfriend-less year. As I flipped the calendar over from February to March I would sigh the sigh of the unloved, the single girl, the independent woman who, once again, finds herself stoutly declaring to herself and her friends that Valentine’s Day is just another meaningless holiday, just another day like all the others, that we strong, college-educated women didn’t need something so trite and frivolous and I would soldier on, getting through school and getting on in the world.

I often dreamed of being one half of a couple. Who hasn’t? I certainly had crushes, schoolgirl crushes or the headier, intoxicating, more adult kind. And men had crushes on me. Sadly, those crushes never really coincided. Bumped heads. Intertwined or overlapped. I skirted around certain attentions, played dumb to other yearning glances and earnest words. Disappointment shook me to my very core. And in return, my own longing remained unnoticed and unreturned, my love squarely unrequited. And I nursed one broken heart after the next.

Life and love are funny that way.

If you press me to say why I loved him, 

I can say no more than because he was he, and I was I. 

- Michel de Montaigne 

The flowers he fills my arms with are never the ordinary, the expected, rather they are blood red dahlias, lush, fragrant peonies in oh so many shades of pink and deep purple, tulips, plump and mysterious, the color of aubergines. No diamonds for me, no, he slips a tiny silver band upon my ring finger, etched with the single word “toujours”. Forever. Platefuls of oysters (I am his pearl) and bowlfuls of delicate, aromatic clams, dazzling tagines and gastronomic soirées, sunny lunches and cozy dinners, golden champagne flowing into long-stemmed glasses with a gentle sigh, the bubbles frothing up and over the rim. My man knows how to please me, knows just what makes this woman smile. The way to a man’s heart, they say, is through his stomach. This man knows that food means more to me than almost anything else.

And I, in turn, express my love and desire by offerings of sweet and savory. Candles lit, table dressed, dainty morsels set before him, sweet ambrosia. I offer him the choicest morsel, he slides his fork between his lips and I wait expectantly, breath held, for his reaction, a murmur of bliss, a groan of pleasure. His delight transports me to a better place, joyful rapture. I glance at him starry-eyed, thrilled with his enjoyment, the gusto with which he eats, a spoonful, a slice, this is how I offer myself to those I love, the best I have to offer.

Panna Cotta is a favorite treat, his guilty pleasure. Creamy and rich, smooth as silk, sensuous as it shimmers on the spoon and slides over the tongue. As delicate as an angel’s touch, as light as air, Panna Cotta warms his heart as sure as my hand placed on his cheek. Knowing just how much he loved it I stayed away from this luxurious, elegant dessert for years, afraid of not living up to expectations. On any restaurant menu, he was sure to order it, the satisfaction wavering with the quality of what was placed before him; sometimes rubbery, sometimes floury, not often pleasing. Each disappointment cut me to the heart. The last made me realize that it was up to me to create for him the best, the most exquisite Panna Cotta, a sure sign of what I was willing to give of myself. For each perfect bouquet of flowers he ever placed in my arms, for every jewel he slid onto one of my fingers, this gift was for him. Romance in a slender glass, the color of faded roses or pale champagne, the scent, the delicate taste of cognac, just a dollop of salted butter caramel hidden beneath to balance the sweetness, a masculine edge, like a fur wrap draped over a delicate satin gown. Placing the spoon next to the empty glass, he smiles and takes me in his arms.

COGNAC PANNA COTTA with salted butter caramel
Serves 6

3 cups (750 ml) whole milk or a combination of heavy cream, light cream/half-and-half and milk (I used 2% lowfat)
2 tsps (1/4 oz, about 8 g) powdered unflavored gelatin
½ cup (100 g) granulated white sugar
½ tsp vanilla extract
3 tsps cognac or to taste, I used Martell Noblige Cognac

6 tsps or more Salted Butter Caramel, just warm or room temperature, optional

In a medium, heavy-bottomed saucepan, pour 1 ½ cups (375 ml) of the cream/milk mixture and sprinkle the gelatin on top. Allow to sit for 5 minutes to soften the gelatin; I usually just tap the gelatin to push it under the liquid. After 5 minutes, turn the flame under the pot to low and allow to heat very gently for 5 minutes until the gelatin dissolves completely, whisking carefully and continuously. Do not allow the milk to come to a boil; if the milk starts to steam too much, simply pull the pot off of the heat and whisk until the 5 minutes are up.

Whisk in the sugar and the rest of the milk or milk/cream mixture and continue to heat over low until the sugar is dissolved and the liquid is thoroughly warmed through. Whisk in the vanilla and cognac, taste and add more cognac if desired. Remove from the heat.

If adding Salted Butter Caramel, place a rounded teaspoon in the bottom of each glass. Carefully pour the hot panna cotta evenly between 6 glasses, verrines or ramekins.

Cover each with plastic wrap and slide into the refrigerator to chill and firm overnight.

Other sexy, romantic ideas for Valentine’s Day desserts:

Vanilla Rum Panna Cotta with Rum-Roasted Cherries

Blueberry Hibiscus Panna Cotta with Wild Blackberry Coulis

Coffee Panna Cotta with Bittersweet Chocolate Sauce

Buttermilk Vanilla Bean Panna Cotta with Balsamic Strawberries from Passionate About BakingChocolate

Pots de Crème with Pomegranate Rubies 
from Creative Culinary

Cherry Cheesecake from Zoë Bakes

Read more »

CHOCOLATE MADELEINES

PURE GOURMET: COGNAC PART II


Victoria: I know this is going to sound crazy, but I don’t know if I’m even gonna be able to sleep, I’m so tired.
Toddy: I’ll get you a cognac.
Victoria: That’ll help me sleep?
Toddy: No, but it makes staying awake a hell of a lot more fun.
- from Victor Victoria (1982)


Rules and traditions. Rules are made by those most knowledgeable to keep us safe and in line, to help us see our way forward more clearly, smooth the bumps and make it all work. Traditions are made…and kept… to connect us from one generation to the next, tie us indelibly to a community; give meaning and sense to our daily, weekly, yearly activities: create and establish patterns of behavior that give comfort in the repetition and instill rituals we understand, habits that offer a comfortable familiarity and sense of well-being.

But I am a woman who has always taken great pleasure in breaking the rules, turning tradition on its weary head and creating my own. My whole life has been unconventional, if quietly so, loathing any rule that insists I be one person or another just to fit in with this group or that, rules that attempt to control my behavior, my likes, my desires. I ran away from home, married one so similar to I and together we wend our way through the world just as we see fit. No excuses, no regrets, only adventure and passion to guide us and help us make our decisions. Rules box us in, traditions don’t allow for discovery or adventure. Stick to the conventional and life is without zest, settle for the accepted and life loses its savor, its piquancy, its fun. One man’s ritual becomes another man’s routine.

Henri: Some men can swing by their heels on the flying trapeze. Some men can become president of the republic. I can drink cognac.
- from Moulin Rouge (1952)

Welcome lunch at Le Bistrot de Claude

The arrival in Cognac was fraught with worry: how does one drink this fiery potion? What if I don’t like it? What if I am the only one not able to endure? Will I understand the traditions that surround cognac, the rituals that infuse this heady libation with meaning? Will I seem clumsy, unfamiliar as I am with the rules associated with the drinking of cognac, the ages-old customs that have existed for centuries? I must admit that I felt out of place, wondered how I could fit in, one such as I who fits in nowhere, who follows her own lead and lives by her own rules and is, as it goes, rather uncomfortable with the standard, set rules of others. As one who finds herself for the very first time dining with Kings and Queens and stumbling through the meal, not sure which fork to use, wondering which knife is for fish and which for butter, terrified of breaking protocol when it is most expected (think: dribbling wine down one’s skirt, tripping on the carpet, flinging gravy onto the tablecloth or making a joke no one else understands), I approached the weekend with Martell Cognac hesitantly, my confidence wavering, feeling as if I would be walking into some archaic and antiquated world filled with old men with some fabled cognac culture, so set their ways.

Château de Chanteloup

Well, I should have had my first clue that this would be no ordinary tasting weekend confined within the same old traditional rituals when it struck me that Martell Cognac was reaching out to bloggers. You see, as usual and accepted as this marketing strategy is for American companies, this is highly unusual for the French. It breaks barriers; it breaks rules; bloggers are rarely recognized as having power or influence, hardly seen as a means of communication and French companies are not in the habit of either giving away anything much less embarking on anything novel or innovative. So when it was announced that our Martell experience would not be restricted to an elegant, dark, Old World salon, sipping Very Old amidst the swirls of cigar smoke as very proper gentlemen retiring after dinner, I perked up, my curiosity aroused and I relaxed. I knew that I was in for an unusual experience! Our dinner at Les Closerie des Lilas introduced us, albeit ever so briefly, to the Pure Gourmet Concept, which would be the guiding element of the two following days and throughout every tasting, discussion and meal.


Pure basic ingredients. Terroir. The complexity, balance, harmony of flavors creating an all-around gastronomic, gustatory experience. This is the definition of Pure Gourmet: an ideology based on craftsmanship, whether in cognac making or cooking, the careful selection of ingredients from renowned terroirs, preparation in a skillful and unpretentious matter, producing clean, concise, pure tastes.


Martell Cellar Master Benoît Fil explains "The culture of flavor, of tasting and of discovering the terroirs are perhaps the most obvious links between the Martell cognacs and the recipes that have been created for Pure Gourmet. It is impossible to make a good eau-de-vie without a good wine and you cannot make a good wine without a good grape… all stems back to the origins, the ingredient. The Pure Gourmet recipes are ingredient-led, each with a focus on three pure ingredients from the most renowned terroirs, this is why my team and I have worked closely together to create ingredient and Martell pairings on which the recipes are based." The two very talented young chefs of the Château de Chanteloup, Eric Danger and Christophe Pienkowski, prepared beautiful meals for us throughout the weekend, combining three simple yet very high-quality, seasonal ingredients to create each dish; pure, unadulterated pleasure. And instead of finding the expected bottles of wine on the table at lunch and dinner each day, rather than finding our glasses filled and refilled with shimmering golden white or deep, garnet red as each course was placed before us, each dish was carefully paired with the perfect Martell cognac. Cognac. Have I used the word revelation before? The food brought out and highlighted the individual flavors, the aromas of the cognac: oranges, coffee, chocolate or plums, smoky or woody, fruity or earthy. And, in turn, the cognac heightened the flavors and the enjoyment of the food, blending beautifully rather than overpowering it.

“The pure gourmet recipes match each cognac with three key ingredients that
highlights its characteristics.”

Each meal was an experience shared by the group amid laughter and non-stop chatter, enjoying the pre-dinner bites, the foie gras rolled in pain d’épice and topped with crispy sweet apple chips or the luscious, luxurious risotto paired with earthy cèpes in a rich, dark sauce all under a smooth, tangy local Charentes farmhouse cream; the amazing fresh seafood lunch which started with a gorgeous Côtinère fish soup; the lobster accompanied by a fruity mango vinaigrette; milk-fed veal in a roasted grand cru coffee bean sauce; or the stunning desserts including the Jonchée de Fourras, a local mild cheese with much the taste and texture of cottage cheese or, more perfectly, French faisselle, then whipped light and astonishingly ephemeral, blended with a mere hint of sugar and bitter almond, a handful of chopped nuts then served with a salted butter caramel ice cream. The pairings were at once surprising and so completely logical, and we were forever turned onto the possibilities, that this was simply a concept that made sense and that we would continue once we returned home.

Saturday morning, we sauntered out to visit a tiny street market in the beautiful town of Saintes, seeing the food at its source. We snapped pictures, chattered amongst ourselves, were enchanted by the cèpes and truffles being sold by the woman selling newspapers and magazines as if it was the most natural thing in the world. We sallied out to a fruit and vegetable farm, rather sordid, I might add, but great fun for us anyway as we continued to get to know each other as we photographed everything in sight. Home – for now we would be happy to consider this home – for a beautiful lunch.

Au marché de Saintes (photo courtesy of Ren Behan)

The afternoon we split into two groups, each having their turn at the formal tasting (which I discussed in my previous post) and the other having great fun in the kitchen with Chefs Danger and Pienkowski – baking! Our group – Ren, Qing Lin, Douglas and I accompanied by Katja and photographer Anne-Laure – watched as the two chefs joyfully made Crêpes filled with Lemon Cream, raspberries and red currents and topped with orange Sauce Suzette. To be enjoyed accompanied by cognac, bien sûr. We asked them question after question, had them explaining how they had made the previous evenings spectacular dessert with Jonchée – which they then had us taste – grilled them about their backgrounds – both come from a stone’s throw from Nantes! Yay! and a great time was had by all!

Ready for the baking workshop!

Tie on our Martell aprons, roll up sleeves, adjust cameras, ready...

Chef Pienkowski preparing Jonchée for us to taste.

Chef Danger preparing perfect crêpes...

... for the Crêpes with Lemon Cream, Fruits Rouges and Sauce Suzette...

...to be paired and enjoyed with Cognac.

Our final evening together was spent over another fabulous meal followed by Champagne and gifts in the lovely contemporary smoking room – nothing Old World or stuffy about it! We drank and we talked and as the evening wore on – with the beautiful misty blackness outside and the occasional deer wandering up and staring in at us through the French windows – we found ourselves, rather fueled by lots of Champagne and cognac, feeling all warm and fuzzy and like one big, happy, tight-knit family, squeezing into the tiny Karaoke room and singing our hearts out into the wee hours of the morning.


Sharing this experience not only with food bloggers but wine & spirits and luxury bloggers as well brought an entirely new vision and awareness to this gastronomic adventure. We approached the subject from different angles, asked different questions, saw and appreciated each combination of sensations differently. We were each challenged on a different level and sharing our thoughts and discussing our varying perceptions, some seeing cognac as a tasting/gastronomic experience, others as a drink and still others as a luxury product to be marketed to a certain clientele, some as complimenting or blending with the flavors of the food, some as standing on its own as an alcoholic beverage in all of its many forms, and the rest as part and parcel of our surroundings, the pleasure of elegance and culture… together our combined observations and understanding helped each other see cognac and Pure Gourmet in a new and complete light.

I, for one, learned to taste cognac as I would food. I pushed myself to find the individual flavors and aromas. With much patience and concentration, I taught myself to treat it alongside the food in the same gustatory fashion. And that, in and of itself, was truly a revelation.

Jonchée de Fourras with Cognac

At last I stumbled off to sleep, by far not the last one, and collapsed into my huge, luxurious bed, strains of disco and rock filtering gaily through the floor, happy and content to have been part of this stupendous experience. I knew that I was going home tomorrow with a new group of friends, a newfound understanding of and love for Cognac and the inspiration to include it in my own menus, albeit on special occasions. And how I enjoyed being part of the evolution of this venerable, almost 300-year-old House of Martell; not so much risking their reputation by turning their back on who they are as showing just how comfortable they are with transforming themselves, adapting to and growing with the times, putting a contemporary spin on the fusty, old image of cognac and cognac drinkers. They didn’t turn their backs on tradition; rather they are marching into a new era by creating new traditions. From the saucy mixed cocktails to the prestigious, familiar globes of amber liquid straight up, from a splash in one’s mid-morning coffee to a selection to accompany and emphasize the flavors of each dish served during mealtime, Martell showed themselves groundbreakers and quite at ease with a changing, contemporary world. Pure Gourmet brings cognac to the lunch and dinner table, a place once held exclusively by wine. And Martell, by putting two dynamic, fearless young chefs in the kitchen, working alongside the Martell Cellar Master, “reinvent the magic of cognac and food” creating a truly unique gastronomic experience.

For a truly stupendous, stunning holiday dessert using Cognac, try my Holiday Chestnut Cake with Chocolate Chestnut Cognac Cream Filling and Chocolate Buttercream Frosting or my Gingerbread Macarons filled with Chocolate Chestnut Cognac Ganache!

(photo courtesy of Ren Behan)

N.B. Round trip travel from Nantes to Cognac via Paris, all hotel accommodations and meals were courtesy of Martell. No further gift (except a wee bottle of cognac and one Madeleine tray) and/or remuneration has been solicited or offered. The decision to write about the trip was my own decision and all views and opinions are my own.


PURE GOURMET CHOCOLATE MADELEINES
Recipe courtesy of Chefs Danger & Pienkowski and Martell Pure Gourmet (with one adjustment)

Makes 25 - 30 3-inch (8 cm) Madeleines

200 g unsalted/sweet butter
150 g good quality 70 – 75% cacao bitter or semi-sweet dark chocolate
200 g confectioner’s/icing sugar
75 g flour
80 g finely ground almonds
6 large (about 180 g) egg whites
1 Tbs liquid honey
Butter and flour for the Madeleine molds

Butter each of the Madeleine molds/cups in the tins. Dust with flour then shake out the excess of flour.

Place the butter in a non-reactive small to medium-sized pan and heat over medium-low heat until melted. Continue to cook for 5 minutes until the butter is lightly browned (beurre noisette). Pour the butter off into a metal or heatproof glass or Pyrex bowl, leaving the dark dregs in the pan as much as possible, and allow to cool.

Break up the chocolate into pieces and place in a bain-marie or into a heatproof glass or Pyrex bowl set over simmering (not boiling) water and melt. Remove from the heat and allow to cool.

Sift the confectioner’s sugar and flour together into a large mixing bowl. Stir (sift if you have the courage) the ground almonds into the sugar and flour until blended. Place the egg whites in a medium bowl (I prefer plastic) and beat using an electric mixer until just past foamy (they will be frothy and opaque and just start to hold a floppy peak). Beat in about a third of the sugar/flour/almond mixture then scrape it back into the large mixing bowl and whisk until smooth, creamy and well blended. Whisk or stir in the browned butter (again trying not to add in the dark dregs), the tablespoon of honey and then the melted chocolate. Blend well.

Fill the cavities in the Madeleine tins with batter almost to the top. Place the filled tins in the refrigerator for one hour to firm up.

Preheat the oven to 375°F (190°C). Remove the trays from the refrigerator and bake for 12 – 15 minutes or until they are puffed and just set in the center. Do not overbake.

Remove from the oven and rap the tray on the work surface sharply to loosen the Madeleines then pop or turn them out of the tray onto cooling racks, gently edging them out with a butter knife if necessary.


Enjoy the Madeleines warm or at room temperature, accompanied by a glass of Martell Cognac: Noblige, XO or Cordon Bleu. Bien sûr.

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MACARONS PAIN D’ÉPICE (GINGERBREAD MACARONS)

WITH ORANGE CHOCOLATE COGNAC GANACHE : COGNAC PART I


It’s beginning to smell a lot like Christmas…. The air is redolent with the warm, comforting scent of spices, cinnamon and ginger, nutmeg and cloves. We count the days to Hanukkah, thrilled that Simon will be coming home for the holiday, yet this year we feel the urge for a little Christmas spirit as well. Maybe it is the icy whiteness outside the window giving the world a romantic glow. Maybe we just need a bit of festive cheer that only sparkly decorations and the scent of an evergreen can bring. I will dig out the shoebox overflowing with shimmering garlands and the few holiday decorations we have collected over the years, hand-painted shells, walnuts and tiny pinecones in gold to string gaily in and out among the green, several treasured gems the boys made when they were mere tots. I’ll pull out the cookie cutters and bake batches of sweet, buttery treats, stars and menorahs, Santas and reindeer, all dancing happily together on the plate. I’ll make my favorite Cookie Christmas Tree, piles of sizzling potato and cheese latkes to be eaten in the glow of the Hanukkah flames. “The more the merrier,” the tiny elves shout with glee! Yes, our Hanukkah and Christmas can indeed mingle side by side in merriment and joy, seeing in the New Year in brilliance and splendor.


Smoky fumes kissed by a hint of pear and berries, I have never smelled anything quite as rich. Breath in deeply, the sharpness of alcohol stings the nose so unused to the complexity, the experience of cognac. How does one recount a truly remarkable experience, for a remarkable experience it truly was, from that astonishing e-mail that wended its way surreptitiously, almost furtively, into my inbox, hiding amongst all the others, to that nostalgic trip home, each one of us huddled in the corner of our own seat, quietly contemplating the almost 3 days spent together learning and laughing, already sad that we would be separating ways. Son couldn’t contain his mirth at the idea of his old mom sipping cognac amidst the elegant wisps of cigar smoke, but yes, the invitation made it more than clear, I had been invited by Martell Cognac to discover the fabulous world of, yes indeed, cognac.

The season sweeps in on the heady fumes and aromatic eloquence of cognac. The sights, the odors, the flavors sing Christmas.

Now why, you ask, would son find it so amusing that I had been invited for total cognac immersion? I am normally averse, I must admit, to the taste of strong liqueur, yes indeed. One powerful, intoxicating whiff knocks me over and turns me off. An urgent “Taste it!” as the glass is nudged closer to my nose only makes me step back in distaste. How many years and lessons did it take for me to appreciate, nay actually fall in love with wine, the luscious, lovely grape? But I was utterly fascinated and extremely excited to have been invited, intrigued to discover this mysterious libation and as one who has come to love using rum, Grand Marnier, Amaretto, Limoncello and, yes, cognac in my baking, I couldn’t help but be pleased to step into the train that would whisk me off to Paris.

An introductory dinner at Les Closerie des Lilas in Paris with the other food, wine and spirits and luxury bloggers, Katja and her bevy of lovelies from Balistik*Art and a group from Martell Cognac began my journey of discovery. From the welcome cocktail to the last sip of Cognac at the close of a wonderful meal already had me hooked and yearning for more. After a delicious night’s sleep, we were up at the veritable crack of dawn, begging the hotel staff for coffee and just a nibble of croissant (which they happily obliged), finally to be taken to the train and off to Cognac.

Pampered from beginning to end: coffee served in the salon...

...but we always end up with cognac (photo courtesy of David Lebovitz)

A stroll through the vineyards, a walk through the distillery and we were sipping our first glasses of Cognac. Glasses. In the plural. For, yes, we would spend 48 hours sipping, tasting, rolling the amber gold liquid around in our mouths, feeling the heat spread through our bodies, bathe our beings in warmth, our cheeks taking on a rosy glow as the giggles bubble up, our group, strangers a mere few hours before, now feeling connected by a lively, generous bonhomie. No longer shy – is it now the Cognac speaking? – we ask questions, snap photos, chatter among ourselves. With utter fascination I listen, am walked through the long, laborious, delicate process of creating an excellent Cognac, listen as our resident Cognac expert Jeremy Oakes, who accompanied us throughout the weekend (or so I call it), walked us through the many stages of production and passionately discoursed on the magical process of distillation.


Stepping back in time, walking through the tiny, sparse home of the brand’s founder, Jean Martell, through the dim, chilly corridors and cellars where kegs and demijohns of eaux de vie are stacked, soberly, patiently awaiting for the day, the year, the decade when they will be blended, married, with other eaux de vie to create the perfect, silky smooth balance offering a complexity of aromas and flavors, fruity, woody, spicy, floral with a touch of vanilla or hazelnut, to watching the oak kegs being made, one by one, each by hand, the process only barely changed since when kegs were first used, simply inspired me. The process brought me closer to the finished product and instilled an understanding and an appreciation for the artisan quality, the pride, the skill and the creativity that goes into making this venerable libation, into keeping Martell Cognac alive.



Elegance, Complexity, Balance. We heard these three words over and over again and as the three days glided gently, merrily by, I came to see what this meant. Two days of being pampered at the Château de Chanteloup, of dining on delicacies prepared from local ingredients and paired time and time again with a carefully selected Cognac for each dish, being walked through each delicate sniff, each heady breathe, guided through every sip, swirl, swallow of Martell, and little by little a revelation. As the Christmas season peeks its head around the corner, as the lights pop on one by one throughout French cities and villages everywhere, wooing us with the brightness and glitter, the romance of cognac adds to the spirit, promising festivities and luring us into her warm embrace. Gingerbread aromas of cinnamon and ginger with the lingering hint of vanilla; the tang and freshness of winter citrus, oranges spiked with cloves to scent the festive celebrations; or a glass of smoky smoothness, the elegance of curling one’s hand around a globe of liquid gold snuggled up in front of a roaring blaze, haunted by the dark moodiness of plums, damson and black currents or kissed by the romance of chocolate; the whiff of pear tatin as we stood out in the cold mist surrounded by the inky night up there on the Belvedere, the wind snatching at our words as we huddled together to taste the first bottles of Chanteloup Perspective. Sexy bottles held reverently in the hands like a special gift, the sensual curves, the gilded trim, we each had our preference, from the very feminine Noblige, soft, voluptuous, gently sweet touched by the exotic, well structured and light. Or the more lively and very masculine Cordon Bleu, orchard scents of plum and apple surprisingly, harmoniously mingling with coffee and grilled almonds yet touched by the wonder of citrus and floral, the perfect pairing with seafood or veal. The spiciness of XO – Extra Old - in its stunning arched decanter and sophisticated almost jewel-like silver cork, offering that magical blend of cinnamon and candied and dried fruits, peppery, earthy, strong yet silky, sipped while dining on fish.

The Cavern of Ali Baba

Yes, Jeremy brought us into the sacred domain of the true taster where we enjoyed an official dégustation and then carried us down into Paradise, the tiny magical room, dark and slightly dank, where demijohns of the oldest eaux de vie are stored – one of the world’s largest collections - for a special tasting of L’Or de Jean Martell, the pride of the House of Martell. We experienced the nose and the second nose, the orange blossom and lemon zest, the cassis, vanilla and gingerbread chased by a nutty earthiness of a Very Superior Old Pale. We listened to the tale of how Romans planted the first vines in this region in the Fourth Century and created the earliest of cognac-type brandies, a drink forbidden to the French. How it traveled thanks to the French and then the Dutch, finally to be brought back to Cognac by Jean Martell in 1715 where he founded his house. Snapping photos, sipping cognac then wandering back to the Château for a private pastry class by Chefs Danger and Pienkowski – more on this and the food part of the trip will be shared in my next post – before our last jubilant meal followed by a glass or two of Champagne surrounded by laughter and smoke and then an all-night karaoke session, packed into a tiny room, singing our hearts out (and only one among us opted out, sneaking quietly off to bed, and he knows who he is.).


Do I ramble on too long and evangelize too loudly; do I give off the aura of one who now adores, worships the great god cognac? I find it difficult to expound on this wonderful trip and the wonders of my newfound passion for cognac without sounding like a brochure or a marketing tool at the hands of a great company. Yet, I must admit, although wary of their expectations before I left, as I accepted the trip, as I then sat in front of a clean white paper deciding on how to tell the story, for it is always a story for me, I couldn’t help but acknowledge that I was totally swept away, left completely enthralled with not only cognac and the region (which my husband has always loved) but with all of the people who managed and oversaw our three days, who took care of us, pampered us; I was captivated by their passion and their exuberance, how they were like one large, happy family who welcomed us into their fold.

photo courtesy of Douglas Blyde

A warm and heartfelt thank you to the kind folks at Martell Cognac and to my fellow travelers

Ren Behan of Fabulicious Food
Douglas Blyde of Intoxicating Prose
Brad Lau of Lady Iron Chef
Helene Le Blanc of The Luxe Chronicles
David Lebovitz of David Lebovitz
Qing Lin of Neeu
Max of Cognac Expert


Please be patient, the food and fun will soon continue on Cognac Part II

N.B. Round trip travel from Nantes to Cognac via Paris, all hotel accommodations and meals were courtesy of Martell. No further gift (except a wee bottle of cognac) and/or remuneration has been solicited or offered. The decision to write about the trip was my own decision and all views and opinions are my own.


For a truly stupendous, stunning holiday dessert using Cognac, try my Holiday Chestnut Cake with Chocolate Chestnut Cognac Cream Filling and Chocolate Buttercream Frosting!

GINGERBREAD MACARONS
WITH COGNAC CHOCOLATE CHESTNUT GANACHE


For this month’s Mactweets challenge: Seasons & Holidays Macarons, I used my favorite macaron recipe and spiced it up for the holidays, bringing to the French macaron the lovely flavor of Pain d’Épice – gingerbread. For a festive filling, I made a ganache using an orange-spiked dark chocolate and blended about 2 tablespoons prepared vanilla-scented sweetened chestnut cream and 2 tablespoons Noblige Cognac by Martell into the cooled and thickened ganache. They were beautiful! Like a fine cognac, the marriage of each Christmassy flavor blended together in perfect harmony, yet allowed for each individual flavor to stand out, passing over the tongue one by one. Just splendid!

7 oz (200 g) powdered/icing sugar
4 oz (112 oz) finely ground almonds
3 large eggs whites (about 3.5 oz / 100 g)
1.2 oz (35 g) granulated white sugar
1 tsp ground pain d’épice or gingerbread spices
1 tsp unsweetened cocoa powder
¼ tsp ground cinnamon

Blend the cocoa powder and spices together with the sifted powdered/icing sugar and ground almonds. Whip the granulated sugar in with the aged egg whites and carry on from there! I baked these at 145°C in my never-ending quest for the perfect oven temperature for my own oven.

For the Chocolate Chestnut Ganache:

4.2 oz (120 g) good quality dark chocolate (I used Lindt 70% cocoa Orange-Chocolate)
½ cup (125 ml) heavy whipping cream
2 Tbs sweetened Crème de Marrons (canned sweetened Chestnut Cream)
2 Tbs Martell Cognac of your choice (I used Noblige)

To prepare the GINGERBREAD MACARONS follow the directions here.

For the Chocolate Ganache, simply chop the chocolate and place in a medium heatproof bowl. Heat the cream over low heat until it comes just to the boil then pour over the chopped chocolate. Stir until the combined and smooth and the chocolate is completely melted. Allow to cook and thicken, placing in the refrigerator to hurry the process. When the ganache is cooled and very thick, fold or stir in the chestnut cream and the cognac. Refrigerate again to firm up.

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