Chocolate Gingerbread Macarons

Les Petites Faiblesses (those pesky little human weaknesses)

Mieux vaut déceler une faiblesse que se laisser soupçonner d'un vice. *

- Denis Diderot, Jacques le fataliste et son maître, 1765 - 1784

It has been one of those weeks. Husband has his Man Cold. Okay, I like to tease, but he has whatever is going around and it ain’t pretty. Son battled his oncoming sore throat valiantly and scurries off to school, jacket and sweatshirt open, neck bared to the winter wind. Sigh. My mother’s heart does that funny little pitter pat of guilt-ridden worry but teeth firmly bite tongue as I watch him slip out of the apartment. Marty marches on courageously and stout-heartedly as only little pups can do, with nary a complaint (minus the soulful eyes). His health wavers, we have our doubts, but each time he curls up in our lap, warm and soft, and each time he looks up to make sure it is indeed maman or papa on whose lap he is cuddled just to reassure himself before settling back into sleep, well it goes without saying that we put off that impossible decision one more day. As for me, a little upset tummy that I stoutly claim was due to boxed mushroom soup while husband places the blame squarely on three days spent at Le Salon du Chocolat eating nothing but, well, chocolate.

Once again, son approaches me and introduces the subject abruptly, as is his way, as if I have been following his train of thought all along. He asks while demanding, demands while asking, making that lilting statement of Well, if you want to bake cupcakes or something again, my friends will eat them. Friday night I’ll be at Martin’s for dinner. He states it casually, almost off-handedly, with that familiar, barely perceptible shrug of his lanky shoulders. It somehow comes out that they have requested something homemade, or maybe he has made it known that I am free to offer up dessert whenever they desire. A chocolate layer cake for his friend’s birthday party, cupcakes for a dinner and muffins for their workgroup at school of an afternoon, and a new generation, a new gang of friends has come to know – and apparently crave – my baked goods.

Let sleeping dogs lie.

My son finds an important purpose in life.

Well, okay, no problem, I declare, heaving that motherly sigh of sacrifice while secretly thrilling that my baby boy, usually so embarrassed by my being so, well, I don’t know…American? Outrageous? A nudnik? Embarrassing? has actually offered my treats to his friends, once again, and is answering their young call of the wild for snacks from my kitchen.

But there the problem lies. What to make? Now, my son, my Simple Simon, would be quite happy if I made the same three things over and over again and into eternity. I highly doubt that he even partakes of what he brings to his friends. But where is the excitement or challenge in that for Old Mom? Or for his friends? And so I ask him to ask them what they would like. And he does. And comes back with the most astonishing of requests: macarons. Do they even know that I make these delicate, fussy little concoctions? Has he bragged? Happily I happen to have two jars of fresh egg whites floating around the back of my refrigerator and let the games begin!

I turned back to one of my favorite flavor combinations, my favorite macarons, les Macarons Pains d’Épice, the Gingerbread macarons. I adjusted the flavoring by omitting the extra ground cinnamon and doubling the cocoa for a more pronounced chocolate sensation highlighted by the gingerbread spice blend. I filled the macarons with a simple chocolate ganache. So when he dashed into the house precisely at 7, dropped his backpack on the floor and demanded I pack up the macs in foil vite vite!, grabbed the foil package and dashed back out the door, his thank you a breathless wisp caught in the breeze of the swinging door, hidden among his embarrassment to acknowledge my good deed… well, I had to smile. I know how hard showing his appreciation is for him. It is enough that he wanted me to bake for his friends.

* Better to reveal a weakness than be suspected of a vice.

CHOCOLATE GINGERBREAD MACARONS
With Chocolate Ganache

7 oz (200 g) powdered/icing/confectioner’s 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
2 tsps unsweetened cocoa powder

FOR THE FULL RECIPE DIRECTIONS, PLEASE JUMP HERE AFTER READING THE FOLLOWING NOTES.

Sift the powdered/confectioner’s sugar and the ground almonds into a large mixing bowl.

Blend the cocoa powder and spice together with the sifted powdered/icing sugar and ground almonds and whisk to blend. 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. And in my new oven it took much longer than the average 20 minutes. Watch closely, check often and see what is best for your own oven.

Chocolate Ganache:
½ cup (125 ml) heavy cream
3.8 – 4 oz (110 - 115 g) dark chocolate

Coarsely chop the chocolate and place it in a heatproof bowl. Heat the heavy cream just to the boil and pour over the chopped chocolate. Stir until smooth and creamy. Allow to cool until desired piping consistency.

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APRIL IN PARIS – MONTHLY MINGLE GOES TO FRANCE!

Every time I look down on this timeless town
whether blue or gray be her skies.
Whether loud be her cheers or soft be her tears,
more and more do I realize:

I love Paris in the springtime.
I love Paris in the fall.
I love Paris in the winter when it drizzles,
I love Paris in the summer when it sizzles.
- Cole Porter

Wind-tossed skies, leaves skitter across sidewalks and vast stretches of abandoned parks; colourful buds peep up boldly from the winter-kissed ground and droop from trees anxious to dress for the new season. Chairs and tables for two seem to sprout from sidewalks at the now numerous cafés which have miraculously appeared as from nowhere, rebirth after hibernation, faded green metal or rustic wood, clutters of coffee cups amid dustings of crumbs like so many harbingers of spring.

April in Paris. Streets crowded with chattering, laughing locals as they take their time, no longer the need nor the desire to hurry from one place to the next, slowing down to enjoy the warmth and sunshine as if surprised at its sudden reappearance after the long, cold, dreary slog through winter. Or clustered along the street’s edge, perched on tiny chairs, legs stretched out, faces turned heavenward like so many sunflowers, sipping cool drinks or fingers clutched around tiny white cups of steaming liquid, the Parisian’s elixir, edges stained in creamy foam. Lovers stroll along the grand boulevards or underneath the Eiffel Tower; crowds spill out of museums and gather in Les Tuileries or the Le Jardin du Luxembourg to enjoy a picnic, a bottle of wine nestled into a basket alongside the jambon-beurre. School children skip through the gardens, licking ice cream cones or biting into fresh, warm pain au chocolat. Cameras click click click across this beautiful city, capturing moments of this city at once so ancient and so modern, a city, this city, Paris, infused with mystery, charged with energy, a magical city that has captured the world’s imagination.

I love Paris in the summer, when it sizzles.
- Cole Porter

This April the Monthly Mingle sweeps you away to Paris, the city of romance, the city of lights. From croissants to Coq au Vin, from steak frites to tiny, delicate macarons, cuisine traditionnelle and nouvelle cuisine, Paris is not only synonymous with love and passion, but with great food. Like fine French art, Monet and Seurat, Fragonard, Rousseau or Ingres, like her wines, both red and white, voluptuous, fruity and earthy at once, French cuisine is known the world over for its masterly beauty and culture, food as a universal language. A Monthly Mingle strolling through the mythical streets of Paris, breathing in the luxurious scents floating out of pastry shops and bistros, the heavenly sweet mingling with the savory, will bring France to your table, masterly and memorable, creating emotions that only deepen the sensations.


So join me in this convivial Monthly Mingle April in Paris by bringing to the table a favourite French dish or pastry, savory or sweet. Here is how you mingle:

1. Create a dish or a recipe based on French cuisine, whether traditional or innovative, savory or sweet, simple or complicated, serious or downright fun! Think patisserie, boulangerie, bistro, brasserie or even reach for the Michelin stars!

2. Post about it on your blog from now through the 30 April 2012 (entries must be in English, please).

3. Your creation must be prepared exclusively for the current Monthly Mingle April in Paris theme and cannot be submitted to any other blog event.

4. You must provide a link to this post and to the Monthly Mingle page. Monthly Mingle is the creation of my zesty sister Meeta of What's For Lunch, Honey?

Once you have posted your dish or recipe, please email me at jamieannschler@gmail.com with Monthly Mingle in the subject line. Your email must include the following information,

-Your name
-Your blog name
-A link to the post where the dish appears
-The name of your dish
-A picture no wider than 300 pixels

Bon Appétit!

Find the recipe for Choux here.
To create the chouquette, generously sprinkle the top of each mound of choux pastry dough with sucre en grains or large-grained pearl sugar.

Find the recipe for crème pâtissière or pastry cream to fill éclairs here.

Find the recipe for Chocolate Icing for the éclairs here.

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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.

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CHOCOLATE CINNAMON PANNA COTTA & CHOCOLATE HAZELNUT FINANCIERS

BOYS WILL BE BOYS

I don't mind living in a man's world as long as I can be a woman in it.
- Marilyn Monroe

My dear friend Lael keeps teasing me about living in a household full of men.Woman vs Man. Me vs Godzilla. Fay Wray vs King King. Coming from her own house of one man, Giuliano, swimming against a tide of women, Lael must see my own world as one ongoing, raging battle of wits and wills, an everlasting struggle to please the hard-to-please. Or a great comedy act. One solitary, isolated girl baking and cooking for, humoring 3 men. Sugar & spice and everything nice simply going about my life and trying to understand the snakes and snails and puppy dog tails, to no avail.

In a way she is right. Every single day more proof is laid at my door that we are entirely different species. Try as I might, I am often berated for not understanding, chided for talking to the boys as if they were girls, using emotion and compromise where stalwart orders and force are the only effective means. When I am upset they need me to be happy and bright; yet my cheerfulness is a sign of flippant insouciance in times of worry. When I dress up they ask me where I am going; “Nowhere, I just feel like looking nice.” merits shrugged shoulders and rolled eyes. Dressed down, jeans, fleece and slippers, and they rebuke me for slouching around the house like a listless, uncaring slob. An evening in front of a good movie? Homemade pizza a-gogo, coffee table spread with a traditional red & white checked cloth, cork popped on a luscious, fizzy bottle of Lambrusco and, yes, you see it coming, don’t you? She wants a good chick flick or something light and humorous and they want zombies and chainsaws or giant fireballs or a dark thriller filled with spies and evil and boogey monsters. They make fun of me for carrying Kleenex in my purse and cookies in the car yet are always the first to partake. They lose, well, almost everything and, somehow or other, I never do; and no matter how often I point out that it is because I follow the old adage “A place for everything and everything in its place”, frankly they do not; ecco fatto. My kindness is seen as weakness, my gentle words of understanding simply giving up and giving in, my pithy words of wisdom as mere blather, just mom rattling on and on again.

Though we adore men individually,
we agree that as a group they’re rather stupid.
-Mary Poppins

But I malign my men too readily and much too flippantly. As the only girl in a schoolyard full of boys, it is often a frustrating prospect and once too often I have come out the loser, face down in the dirt and bicycle stolen. Yet, for all of their “maleness”, as much as they seem absolutely mystified by my “girliness” they are ready to protect me at a moment’s notice, pamper me on each and every special occasion, whether birthday, Hanukkah or even Valentine’s Day. They walk on eggshells if I am unhappy and do all within their power to soothe my hurt and cheer me up. They coddle me when I am sick and although they seem to go out of their way to make me angry, they are also quick to step in, apologize and clean up the mess when I finally explode. They used to get upset and embarrassed when I was overly friendly to strangers, chatting merrily to shopkeepers, conversing with the butcher, attempting to draw a smile from even the grouchiest of curmudgeons, yet now they either stand by patiently waiting for me to finish or they, themselves, join in the fun. Yes, I malign them; we tease each other endlessly and drive each other crazy, but it is, really, all in good fun.

No, we will never understand each other’s ways and will often cross swords. But for all of our differences we are a very tightknit group who love each other’s company and care for each other’s well being; we can spend hours and days together talking and laughing, traveling and sightseeing. A helping hand and an eager ear are always there for the asking, advice and a shoulder never very far. We also know our limits and when to leave the others in peace. The perfect little family, odd in our own special way, maybe not so perfect but perfect all the same. For all that we don’t get each other, we understand each other thoroughly.

The great question that has never been answered,
and which I have not yet been able to answer,
despite my thirty years of research into the feminine soul,
is “What does a woman want?”
- Sigmund Freud

Yes, Lael urges me to write about baking for a house full of men, my daily, weary attempts to keep them sated and happy. It is, I must admit, a never-ending balancing act, a delicate tightwire performance, producing just the right amount of sweet things to their satisfaction: there are days they beg me for cake, exhorting me to dash into the kitchen tout de suite and whip up something chocolate, oozing buttercream or crunchy with pecans and why not a tin of chocolate chip cookies to boot, while I’m at it; they cry neglect when the counter is bare of plates and platters bearing homebaked goodies shrouded under layers of foil, theirs for the choosing. And there are days that any baking effort is met with a shrug and a turned back…just not interested. The cakes and cookies languish away, slowly forming a comforting blanket of fuzz. They shake their heads and scold me for overbaking, admonish me for not listening to their no’s and their stop the damn baking! They have even gone so far as to scream abuse, crying for one and all to hear that I force food down their throats!

If a man wants to truly communicate with a woman,
he must enter her world of emotions.
- Gary Smalley

Ah, woe is me, the woman of the house. Too emotional. Too friendly. Too talkative. But where baking is concerned, I can usually get it right. I’ve got my finger on the pulse and if once in a while I get it wrong, making something not one of them likes, I can usually feed their desires, put smiles on each face and soothe their man-souls.


While they eat the last of the Chocolate Chip Butter Horns and Pecan Brownie Cupcakes, while Simon puts away an entire Chocolate Layer Cake with Chocolate Buttercream Filling practically on his own, I am, once again, craving chocolate. Panna Cotta has long been on my mind and I have wanted to try on chocolate for size. I based my ingredients and quantities on a small book called Panna Cotta, one of the Hachette Collection series. I added cinnamon to the blend and switched out the sheets of gelatin with powdered and followed my own how-to directions. Although JP loves the finished product, I am not altogether happy that the dessert separated, leaving a rather grainy layer atop the creamy center layer, so I will try again. I decided to post the recipe anyway, hoping a reader can figure it out and perfect it for me.


To accompany the Panna Cotta, I made Financiers, the tiny, delicate French tea cakes, very much like a sponge, lightened with plenty of whipped egg whites and flavored with ground nuts. A friend of Clem’s had given me her own recipe ages ago and I finally pulled it out and put it to good use. I changed much of the flavoring, switching the classic ground almonds with hazelnuts, adding a splash of vanilla and a dash of ground cinnamon and finishing the whole off with a handful of finely grated semisweet chocolate, not only for the light chocolate flavor but to give the Financiers a lovely “tweedy” look. The cakes are fabulous! Perfect texture, perfect flavor: light yet chewy, delicate and moist! This is such a lovely snack, great for a tea or coffee break but perfect as an accompaniment to such desserts as Panna Cotta, Ice Cream or sorbet. This recipe will now be baked over and over again, the basis for an abundance of flavor combinations.


CHOCOLATE CINNAMON PANNA COTTA

2 ¾ cups (675 ml) whole milk, divided
.35 oz (10 g = about 2 ½ tsps) powdered gelatin
3.5 oz (100 g) semisweet chocolate (I use Lindt Doux 70%), chopped
¼ cup + 2 tsps (60 g) sugar
¼ tsp ground cinnamon

Prepare 6 individual ramekins or pretty serving glasses.

Place ¾ cup (approximately 185 ml) cold milk in a small bowl and sprinkle the powdered gelatin over the milk’s surface. Using a fork, gently give it a mix. Allow to stand for 5 minutes; this softens the gelatin.

While the gelatin is softening in the cold milk, pour the rest of the milk in a medium saucepan, add the chopped chocolate and the sugar and place over medium-low heat. Allow the chocolate to melt and the sugar to dissolve, stirring, while the milk gently heats; do not allow it to come to a boil.

Once the gelatin has soften and the chocolate milk in the pan is warm (not too hot) and the chocolate melted, add the milk with the gelatin to the saucepan. Continuing stirring or whisking while the mixture heats. Once the mixture is hot and some steam is coming off of the liquid, allow to cook over low heat, stirring, for a few (4 to 5) minutes until the gelatin is melted; if you see specks of pale gold (like drops) on the surface, this is the gelatin and these should disappear.

Remove from the heat. Allow to cool for several minutes, stirring occasionally then divide evenly among the recipients. Cover each glass or ramekin with plastic wrap and place in the refrigerator until set, about 8 or 10 hours or, preferably, overnight.


CHOCOLATE HAZELNUT CINNAMON FINANCIERS
I have adapted the recipe of a friend of Clem’s.

1 cup (80 g) finely ground (powder) hazelnuts or almonds
5 Tbs (50 g) flour
¼ cup + 1 Tbs + 1 tsp (75 g) granulated white sugar
¼ cup + 1 Tbs + 1 tsp (75 g) granulated brown sugar (cassonade)
¼ tsp ground cinnamon
5 1/3 Tbs (75 g) unsalted butter + butter for molds
4 large egg whites
½ tsp vanilla
pinch salt
3 Tbs (approximately 2 oz) finely grated semisweet chocolate

Preheat the oven to 400°F (200°C). Generously butter 16 traditional (approximately 3 ¾ x 1 ¾ -inch rectangular/ 9 ½ x 4 ½-cm) Financier molds – or 8 Financier molds + 12 approximately 2-inch (5 cm) round shallow molds. This is most easily done with melted and cooled unsalted butter and a pastry brush.

Finely grate the chocolate. Slowly melt the unsalted butter over low heat and remove from the heat just as the last bit of butter is melting. Swirl a few seconds until the butter is completely melted and set aside to cool briefly.

Beat the egg whites with a few grains of salt until stiff peaks hold.

In a large mixing bowl, combine and whisk together the ground hazelnuts, the flour, both sugars, the cinnamon and a pinch of salt. Fold in the stiff egg whites until just blended. Fold in the butter a little at a time – in about 5 additions, slowly pouring the melted butter down the side of the bowl rather than right into the middle of the batter. Add the vanilla extract with one addition of the butter. Fold in the finely grated chocolate.

Spoon the batter into the molds, filling each mold no more than ¾ full. Gently spread evenly in each mold if needed. Bake for 15 to 20 minutes until the Financiers are puffed and evenly golden brown. Remove from the oven, allow to cool for a few minutes and then gently pop the Financiers out of the molds and cool completely on cooling racks.

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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.

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COOKIES FOR VALENTINE’S DAY

THE SLIPPERY SLOPE


Nothing says Valentine’s Day quite like chocolate; lovely, elegant handmade chocolates wrapped in shiny gold foil, snuggled up together and smartly tucked in a box all tied up with ribbon. Or decadent rivers of dark sauces and creams smothering something so special, so ooey, gooey, luscious as a single portion of cake, mousse or torte, something that sends shivers down our spine. Or is it a fragrant bouquet of roses that speaks louder than words? Plump, velvety red for passion, delicate yellow for constancy and friendship, orange for burning desire… placed in the open arms of the one we love, roses symbolize what Valentine’s Day is all about. Or, hmmmm…. could it be jewels, brilliant, glittering gems, a circle of diamonds or a deep red ruby, the color of our heart, that one dazzling, never-ending band slipped onto a finger or pendant clasped around the neck like a warm embrace binding us forever to that special someone. Candlelight and surprise, warmth and tenderness expressed in the most personal way possible.


Nothing says Valentine’s Day like ranting and raving, furrowed brows and “I warned you a long time ago how I felt about this faux holiday!” sneers. Astonishment and dismay at all the gaudy baubles and cheesy cards, cheap red velvet boxes and clichéd decorations, each more over the top than the next, stuffed into shop windows, the more the merrier simply to sell just another corny, vapid celebration. Obligations, anticipation, withering looks if desires and expectations are not met with enthusiasm, doubt and disappointment if flowers are not delivered, tiny, sentimental gewgaws not slipped across candlelit tablecloths, if our perfect, romantic notions are met with indifference and disgruntled sidelong glances and snide comments.

Sigh.

But I’m an old romantic at heart and that lovely no-man’s land between my birthday and Valentine’s Day is filled with hope, hints and baking. Almost anything goes, from treating myself to one more, teeny tiny, self-indulgent gift to creating cookies, cakes and puddings in feminine heart shapes, dotted and dusted with shimmering pink and red sprinkles. As the only girl in the house – yes, female, woman, there are more politically correct and accurate designations depending upon the topic discussed – but when it comes to birthdays and Valentine’s Day I am still a giggly, whimsical, hope-filled, dreamy, wide-eyed girly girl… so as the only girl in the house I have the undisputed right to pull out all the stops (well, within reason), the pink and the pearly, the shimmery and the frou-frou. I ignore the rolled eyes and smirks, the snorts of derision and the turned backs and I just carry on my merry way towards Valentine’s Day. Nothing is ever acknowledged nor is anything promised. Au contraire! They swear up and down year in and year out that Valentine’s Day is just a bunch of hogwash, a load of hooey, a hackneyed, silly, expensive just another day that deserves no more attention in this house than does Halloween.


But don’t I know them better than that? They know I have a weakness for love and romance and Valentine’s Day has just always been another chance for them to circle me with whimsy and enchantment and shower me with attention. And really anything will do. From those long ago days of my ugly duckling youth when every St. Valentine’s would slip by unrequited, and the shoebox decorated with care and emotion placed squarely on the corner of my grade school desk remained empty of vows of undying, undeclared love and my dreams sadly unfulfilled, veritably dashed to the ground, my need has grown each and every year, my expectations increase enthusiastically with each dinner, bouquet of flowers or jewel I receive against all odds. Each year they assure me that I can forget all about any special gallantry, no consideration would push them to treat the 14th any way other than as just another day. But I know better than that…

And so I tiptoe ahead through forbidden territory, these two weeks sandwiched between my birthday and St. Valentine’s Day. And hearts are the theme once, twice, over and over again. Call me corny, saccharine or just plain cheesy, I don’t care… hearts come pouring out every February. Cookies this week as we hunker down and snuggle up against the cold. Winter has settled in much to my delight, a fine layer of snow covers the ground slowly turning to slush and I wait for a second round of flurries tonight to set things right: a beautiful romantic white glimmering in the black of night. An evening en famille watching an old black & white comedy or a Hitchcock thriller, and a platter of freshly baked buttery sugar cookies enjoyed with the evening’s final glass of wine will suit me just fine.


My first Valentine recipe is heart-shaped cookies edged in pink and red. I mean, how much more romantic can one get than this? And bonus: they are absolutely divine: buttery, tender, full of flavor, not too sweet (just sweet enough, like the ideal sweetheart), the cherry-scented sugar crystals, rose petal nibs and colored sprinkles adding a wonderful crunch and a beautiful dazzle. Wrap them in ribbon and offer them to the one you love.


BUTTERY SUGAR COOKIES
Always tender, never crumbly or dry and less cloyingly sweet than other butter cookie recipes.

2 sticks (1/2 lb, 225 g) unsalted butter, softened to room temperature
¾ cup (150 g) sugar
2 large eggs
1 Tbs Amaretto, optional
½ tsp vanilla – increase to 1 tsp if omitting the Amaretto
3 ½ cups (525 g) flour

To decorate:
1 lightly beaten egg
Colored sugar crystals, sprinkles/jimmies or sugared flower petal nibs

In a large mixing bowl, cream together the softened butter and the sugar until light and fluffy.

Add the eggs one at a time, beating briefly after each addition just to incorporate.

Beat in the Amaretto and vanilla and then about a third of the flour until smooth. Gradually beat in as much of the remaining flour as possible using the electric beater, then stir in the rest with a wooden spoon or a spatula.

Turn out onto a lightly floured surface and knead quickly; if you haven’t stirred in all of the flour you can knead in the rest quite easily. Once you have a smooth, homogeneous dough, wrap tightly in plastic wrap and let it chill in the refrigerator for at least 30 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 350°F (180°C).

Working with about half the dough at a time, roll it out to a thickness of not less than 1/8-inch (no less than .3 cm), being careful that the dough is very evenly rolled out. Carefully cut out shapes with your cookie cutters. Gently transfer to a cookie sheet (I use unlined, ungreased cookie sheets with no problem at all). If you want to decorate, just gently lift the cookies one by one, brush around the edges with a beaten egg, then dip in the decorative sugar before placing on the cookie sheets.


Bake for about 10 minutes. They will be set and appear cooked but they will NOT brown. You’ll know they are done because they will slide right off the cookie sheet when just nudged with a spatula. Remove from the oven and gently lift each cookie off of the baking sheet and place on a cooling rack. Allow to cool completely before enjoying.

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CHOCOLATE ORANGE GRAND MARNIER MADELEINES

ISN'T THIS A LOVELY DAY TO BE COZY AND WARM

The turn in the weather
Will keep us together
So I can honestly say
That as far as I'm concerned,
It's a lovely day and everything's OK.
- Irving Berlin

Whoosh! The wintry cold weather sweeps in, a Siberian caress, an Arctic clutch, a frosty kiss across my skin sending shivers racing through my body. Sun, glorious sun arises bright and early showing off the shimmering glaze of ice atop the building facing our own. Weeks of dim, gray misery melt away and the stunning light and the sharp, crisp cold invigorate, energize and excite this Florida girl in love with winter.

Scurrying back home from the market yesterday morning in positively glacial temperatures, we came to the conclusion that the best place to thoroughly enjoy this marvelous weather was indoors, huddled together, cooking, baking, sipping steamy mugs of coffee and working. Our old, rambling apartment is quite as chilly inside as out and tapping on a keyboard, no gloves feasible, is only a few notches warmer which of course means plenty of meet-ups in the coziness of the kitchen. The last of the Galette des Rois was joyously snatched up and eaten standing, leaning over the platter, divided between my happy menfolk, and it would soon be time to bake again. Our market basket yielded a bounty of goodness, a pristine white cauliflower cupped in curls of gentle, soft green meant to be transformed into an old-fashioned gratin, the snowy flowerets bathed in creamy béchamel and dusted with cheese; peppery endive, so innocent in their pale beauty, so cool and calm, all innocence harboring their devilish bite, to be wrapped in thick, rosy slices of herb-flecked ham and blanketed in yet more cheesy béchamel – oooh do you see the decadence this cold weather is luring us into? Thick, pale, glistening veal chops the color of pink champagne, paired with a tumble of plump milky champignons still heady with the dark, moist earth clinging to their stumps; and apples, red and green, the colors of Christmas, crisp and sweet-tart, the perfect apples for serving silky smooth, drenched in butter, meltingly sautéed, atop those chops à la normande.


And oranges. But more about that in a bit.

Yes, we tripped home with a basket overflowing, a cornucopia of delicious, wintry nourishment. White on white, the theme of this effervescent month of January. And lucky am I that husband is content and at home in the kitchen, maybe even more so than I, and happy he is to stand over the stove and twiddle and play and concoct one rich, luxurious, delicious, comforting dish after another. As we say chez nous, it keeps him off the streets… Which leaves me free to bake.

So many bewail the icy month of January, the month after the glory, the upheaval, the bustle and joy of the December holidays. January is the calm after the storm, and don’t we feel just a bit let down? We finally slow down, catch our breath and glance up and notice the now bare trees, trees naked and brown once the gaudy, flashy, gaily-colored lights and shiny baubles have been taken down and returned to their secret hideaways to slumber away the rest of the year. We see the leaden skies and feel the chill and damp that seeps down to our very bones. January is the month we tighten our belt, count the calories, undo the damage done during the festivities and get back to work. Yawn….nothing ever seems to happen in this long, dreary, cold month of January. We tend towards lethargy; listless and sluggish, we bundle up in layer upon layer to battle the drop in temperature and drag ourselves from task to task, no pleasure in the thought of the long month of January lying ahead of us until February arrives and the anticipation of St. Valentine’s Day begins to brighten our outlook. Yes, the grumbling and grousing, the kvetching and complaining about the month of January rings loud and clear across the blogosphere.


Well, I beg to differ. I love the month of January. We coast from Hannukah and Christmas filled with food and presents through the Champagne celebrations of the New Year all the way through this glorious month straight towards my birthday! I love the nearly unbearable cold and the Florida girl in me begs and prays for snow each and every year. The temperature drops, the sky takes on that mysterious misty-gray hue that presages the coming of snowy days and nights and husband glides through the month gleefully dropping hints, jokingly teasing me about the arrival of the big day and using it to get me to do his bidding. Yes, after the money spent on holiday gifts, there is precious little left for a fancy birthday do, but there is always something special, something to please.

The Ice Queen may reign with her frozen heart, cruel and harsh, yet there is something so regal about this frosty, shivery month cloaked in a mist of silver and mystery. I refuse to jump on the bandwagon of bad-mouthing the first month of the year. The cold actually adds vibrancy to our activity and we push forward with our work and our plans. Clem is designing his first house, Simon is happily ensconced in his Milanese life, the art, the opera, the office, JP pulls together the plans for a brilliant project idea, and I, as we all know by now, write and write and write. You see, unlike the rest of Europe, we neither ski nor snowboard; we don’t skate or dogsled; we have never once been ice fishing and although once a very long time ago we dreamed of taking the kids and heading north for a week in Lapland and yet another time we thought of going all Hurtigruten and taking a romantic winter cruise along the coast of Norway, but we did neither. Instead we hunker down and prepare for the long, hard slog through January, February and even March from our home in Nantes; we watch poor Marty grow despairingly bald as he does every winter; we continue to and make plans and we simply enjoy each other’s company.

A change in the weather is sufficient to recreate the world and ourselves.
- Robert Frost

And, ah, the oranges. Now where do they fit in? As December and January roll around, as winter settles in I begin to crave citrus. Maybe it is the blast of vitamin C, maybe it is the refreshing juice and the bite of a tart clementine or a satisfyingly bitter tang of a grapefruit that helps me battle the cold, but I actually think it is nostalgia. Growing up a stone’s throw from the Indian River, citrus capital of the world (as far as I am concerned), our every winter, whether chilly or mild, was filled with citrus: large brown paper bags carefully saved from trips to the supermarket were filled with quantities of grapefruit white and pink, tangerines and navals and eaten like popcorn. Winter just wasn’t winter without our citrus fruit collected straight from the orchards just over the bridge. So now, the arrival of winter comes hand-in-hand with a craving, a need for juicy oranges, tart grapefruits and bags upon bags of clementines.


And for some odd reason, I have been pairing orange and chocolate, that ideal marriage, over and over again and we cannot get enough: from Nigella’s Chocolate Orange Cake to dense, gooey Orange and Chocolate Brownies, from a swirl of bitter orange marmalade in heavenly bittersweet chocolate ganache to fill my chocolate macarons to a glorious Grand Marnier Bundt drenched under a glaze of Chocolate Ganache, orange and chocolate have become a signature pairing, a duet creating beautiful music. And when my darling friend Lora the Cake Duchess declared the month of January #citruslove month, well, I really couldn’t resist, now could I? And Madeleines it was! I made one bowl of Orange Grand Marnier Madeleine batter and one of Chocolate Grand Marnier batter and combined the two to create these fabulous marbled Madeleines: light and delicate while being incredibly moist, tender and flavorful. What a way to face the month of January.


Looking to hone your food writing or photography skills or just needing to kickstart your creativity? Feeling the blogging blues and desiring inspiration? Wanting to bridge the road between blogger and professional? Looking for an intimate, hands-on, practical workshop rather than a huge, traditional conference? If you missed our exciting, successful From Plate to Page workshop in beautiful Tuscany then you won't want to miss the next! Registrations are now open for From Plate to Page in spectacular Somerset UK in Spring 2012! Check out the program, the accommodations and reviews of P2P Tuscany and P2P Weimar... and then sign up before all the spaces are filled! I'll be there offering writing instruction, critique and ideas.

And my latest article on Huffington Post Food is up.... Eating and the Law in France: What's in the News.

CHOCOLATE ORANGE GRAND MARNIER MARBLED MADELEINES
Adapted from recipes in Madeleines et Financiers by Thomas Feller

Combined, make 24 x 3” large Madeleines + 40 x 1 ½” mini Madeleines.


ORANGE GRAND MARNIER MADELEINES
Makes 12 large + 20 mini or 30 mini Madeleines

2 large eggs
10 Tbs (140 g) unsalted butter, softened to room temperature + more for the molds
½ cup + 2 Tbs + 2 tsps (140 g) granulated sugar
½ an orange, preferably untreated or organic
2 Tbs Grand Marnier
a pinch of salt
scant ¾ cup (100 g) flour

Clean and dry the half an orange; finely grate the zest and squeeze the juice. Separate the eggs, placing the whites with a few grains of salt in a very clean bowl, preferably plastic or metal. Set aside.

In a large mixing bowl and using an electric mixer, beat the softened butter with the sugar until well blended and fluffy. Beat in the egg yolks, the orange zest and juice, the Grand Marnier and a pinch of salt until smooth. Scrape down the sides of the bowl, add the flour and beat in just until combined and smooth.

Using very clean beaters, whip the whites until firm (but not stiff) peaks hold when the beaters are lifted. Fold the whipped whites into the Madeleine batter until completely blended in and no more white is visible. The batter should be thick and completely smooth.

Set aside.

CHOCOLATE GRAND MARNIER MADELEINES
Makes 12 large + 20 mini or 30 mini madeleines

2 large eggs
10 Tbs (140 g) unsalted butter, softened to room temperature + more for the molds
½ cup + 2 Tbs + 2 tsps (140 g) granulated sugar
½ tsp vanilla
2 Tbs Grand Marnier *
scant ¾ cup (100 g) flour
1 Tbs unsweetened cocoa powder
a pinch of salt

* if making the chocolate Madeleines on their own, the Grand Marnier can be replaced with 2 or 3 tablespoons prepared coffee or espresso or 2 tablespoons of another liqueur such as Amaretto, Limoncello or Kahlua.

Separate the eggs, placing the whites with a few grains of salt in a very clean bowl, preferably plastic or metal. Set aside.

In a large mixing bowl and using an electric mixer, beat the softened butter with the sugar until well blended and fluffy. Beat in the egg yolks, the vanilla, the Grand Marnier and a pinch of salt until smooth. Scrape down the sides of the bowl, add the flour and the cocoa powder and beat in just until combined and smooth.

Using very clean beaters, whip the whites until firm (but not stiff) peaks hold when the beaters are lifted. Fold the whipped whites into the Madeleine batter until completely blended in and no more white is visible. The batter should be thick and completely smooth.

Prepare the Madeleines:

Preheat the oven to 400°F (200°C). Lightly butter the indentations in your Madeleine molds/tins.

Prepare the two batters. Spoon equal parts batter – or one or the other – into the indentations not coming up higher than the edges of the indentations. You can marble the two batters by cutting a sharp knife through the two colors.

Place in the preheated oven and bake: about 10 minutes for the mini Madeleines and 15 or 20 for the large Madeleines. Remove the tins from the oven when the center of each Madeleine is set and puffed (slightly – with this recipe don’t expect huge, classic humps in the center) and the edges are golden. Allow the Madeleines to cool for a minute or two in the tins on cooling racks before popping them out, one by one, using the point of a sharp knife and a gentle hand.

Repeat with cooled tins and the rest of the batter.

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