Bûche de Noël – Yule Log

IN THE HOLIDAY SPIRIT

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

- Dr. Seuss 

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


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

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

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

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

And I was in charge of dessert.

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

Are you trying to escape from your bûche assignment?? 

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

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

Christmas is doing a little something extra for someone. 

― Charles M. Schulz 

A Bûche de Noël.

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

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

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

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

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

Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, 

and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, 

become a child again at Christmas-time. 

― Laura Ingalls Wilder 

Last year's Bûche de Noël

This year's Bûche de Noël

BÛCHE DE NOËL

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

For the Rum Sugar Syrup: 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For the Chestnut Mascarpone Cream Filling:

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

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

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

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

Beat in the mascarpone then the chestnut cream.

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

For the Chocolate Mascarpone Frosting:

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

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

Assemble the Bûche:

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

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

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

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Mom’s Chocolate Waldorf Astoria Cake

 THE HOTEL AND THE CAKE

The Waldorf Astoria Hotel. The year was 1977 and there I was, in the private ballroom of the famed Waldorf Astoria Hotel in New York City! I found myself enveloped in the warmth of red velvet and gold trimming, heavy brocade tassels and chandeliers. I stood surrounded by backpacks and duffle bags, suitcases, teenagers sprawled on the floor, draped over banquettes, lolling, slouched or flopped down wherever there was free space. Others paced back and forth, anxious for something to happen or climbing over luggage to join one group or another, the shyer ones, of which I was one, quietly standing and observing the brouhaha. An odd contradiction, the elegant red velvet and the faded old jeans, the silent crystal teardrops hanging high above us and the chattering tumult below.

Shades of Ellis Island, of poor travelers, unkempt immigrants gathered around pyramids of luggage, excitement mixed with confusion, laughter and tears, the babel of voices. Waiting and expectations. Anxious to depart.

Our six-week adventure, our trip to Israel started in the Waldorf Astoria ballroom. Scared, excited, there we were, dozens, hundreds of teenagers waiting for a sign, pushed towards one group of souls or another, nametags stuck to shirts. Looking for where we belonged, names ticked off of lists. I recognized one or two faces but the rest of the group that slowly formed around me were strangers. Little did I know that pushed together as we were like immigrants shuffled onto a steamship to cross the ocean and start over in a whole new world, little did I think how close we would become. We were too alike, full of wide-eyed wonder and religious zeal, ready for anything and everything to happen.

The next six weeks would find us floating in the Dead Sea, high atop Mount Masada, scuffling through the Negev Desert, our sneakers filled with sand, and ogling the Dead Sea Scrolls. Sirens and the muffled sounds of distant bombs would wake us from a sleepy afternoon daze in downtown Jerusalem, guards would signal for us to stand just a bit further away from the barbed wire border that led into Lebanon, Joshua Fought the Battle of Jericho would resound through our old bus amid peals of laughter as we trundled our way towards Jericho. Fingers would reverently brush the worn stones of the Wailing Wall as we inched our way through the praying throngs. Squares of pizza eaten on Ben Yehuda Street, our first felafel smothered under hummus and tahini in Tel Aviv, freshly squeezed orange juice in Jaffa and wine sipped on Mount Carmel. And one magical, splendid meal amid white linen, china plates and crystal water goblets in the King David Hotel.

And it all started in the ballroom of the Waldorf Astoria Hotel in New York City.

After the Veal Scallopini and the Chocolate Chip Nut Bread, here is another gem I came across in my mother’s old Our Favorite Recipes, the cookbook of her old synagogue Sisterhood, a cookbook of which she was chairman. This chocolate Waldorf Astoria Cake is attributed to her, my mom, the woman who didn’t particularly like to cook. I don’t remember this cake, nor do I have more than a faint memory of her making desserts from scratch other than a banana cream pie. I do remember my father’s chocolate layer cake, a recipe I make often. But this cake, ostensibly a recipe from New York’s famed Waldorf Astoria hotel, sounded to good to pass up. And it certainly stirred up memories.

The Chocolate Waldorf Astoria Cake is an incredibly moist, dense cake, almost like a tort or a French fondant or moelleux, layered with luscious thick chocolate cream heady with coffee, reminiscent of the Old World elegance of the Grand Ballroom in that Old Grande Dame of a hotel, of waiters scurrying to and fro carrying silver platters laden with China cups trailing a haze of espresso. Yet the tattered edges I left for all the world to see are like the tattered group of teens who gathered together in that ballroom thirty-six years ago and who quickly became one united family.

MOM’S CHOCOLATE WALDORF ASTORIA CAKE
From Our Favorite Recipes (Sisterhood of Temple Beth Shalom)

8 Tbs (115 g) unsalted butter, softened to room temperature
2 cups (400 g) sugar*
4 squares (4 oz/110 g) unsweetened baking chocolate*, melted and cooled to room temperature
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
1 ½ cup (375 ml) milk at room temperature
2 cups (260 g) cake flour
2 tsps baking powder
1 ½ tsps vanilla
1 cup chopped nuts (walnuts or pecans), optional

* I used a mix of unsweetened and semi-sweet chocolate so decreased the sugar by 2 tablespoons

Preheat the oven 350°F (180°C). Butter and flour the bottom and sides of 2 x 9-inch layer cake pans (or butter and line the bottom with parchment paper).

In a large mixing bowl, cream the butter and sugar together for about 3 minutes until light, creamy and fluffy. Beat in the eggs, one at a time, until well blended and creamy. Beat in the melted and cooled chocolate. Stir the baking powder into the flour, then beat the dry ingredients into the batter in 3 or 4 additions, alternating with the milk, beginning and ending with dry. Beat in the vanilla and make sure that batter is smooth and homogeneous. Fold in the chopped nuts, if using.

Divide the batter evenly between the two prepared cake pans and bake until both layers are set in the center, about 30 minutes or more, if needed.

Remove the cakes from the oven and allow to cool for 10 or 15 minutes on racks before turning out and allowing to cool completely before frosting.

SIMPLE CHOCOLATE MOCHA BUTTERCREAM FROSTING

12 oz (340 g) powdered/confectioner’s sugar
8 Tbs (4 oz/120 g) unsalted butter, softened to room temperature
2 oz (50 g) unsweetened cocoa powder
4 Tbs boiling prepared coffee

In a medium to large mixing bowl, beat the powdered sugar with the softened butter until well blended and fluffy. Add the cocoa powder and the 4 tablespoons of boiling coffee and continue beating until well blended, thick and creamy, scraping down the sides as needed.

If the buttercream frosting is warm or too thin to hold up the top cake layer without oozing out the sides, place the bowl in the refrigerator to chill to desired spreading consistency.

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Chocolate and Vanilla Frosted Birthday Cupcakes

THE STORY OF THE 50 CUPCAKES

We were sitting across from each other at the old wooden dining room table inherited from my in-laws before he was even born, each of us at our respective laptops, working. Suddenly he looked up at me, pausing in his typing, a glimmer of mischief in his golden eyes, and he said “You’re requisitioned to make 50 cupcakes for my birthday party.” Sly grin slid over his face, smugness oozing from each and every pore. “Requisitioned? Don’t you mean “commissioned”? I asked, always in the habit of correcting those slight errors of language in my multilingual boys. 

Typety type type. His fingers once again clattered across the keyboard of his laptop. He peered closely at the screen before reading aloud: “Requisition: an authoritative or formal demand for something to be done, given, supplied, etc.” “No,” he assured me, “I meant requisitioned.”

And so I found myself scurrying around my kitchen in a panic, flour puffing up around me in great clouds, cocoa powder leaving dark traces across my face, the heavenly scent of vanilla the only thing calming me down. I am always thrilled when my boys ask me to bake for their friends and a birthday party to boot, but why do I take on such Herculean chores that I know only throw me in a tizzy? The cursing emanates from the kitchen on waves of chocolate and cinnamon as I make every effort to measure, stir, pour without dropping anything on the floor, pans and bowls balanced precariously on counter edges and stovetop, utensils scattered willy-nilly all over the kitchen, cupboard doors and drawers gaping accusingly. I watch the clock closely as the minutes tick by, knowing that I have little wiggle room for errors, mishaps or flops. And I still have bowls of buttercream to whip up.

But this is a special day. My baby boy turns 25. Yes, 25 years old. As my own mother would say whenever one of her own children announced yet another birthday “What? You are almost as old as I am! Soon you will be older than I!” Oh yes.

With Uncle Michael

My little bundle of joy. No need to carry you along on a voyage of the years flown by; those of you who are parents already know how it works, those who are not parents will not understand the nostalgia, poignant sadness touched by joy. From plump little baby to curious – more than curious, in his case – toddler to young boy passionate about nature and a gloriously happy eater. Through those turbulent teen years to that odd limbo between adolescence and adulthood – mostly spent in bed, head firmly buried under covers - when he had no idea where to go, what to become, to this. A smart, handsome, funny, oh-so clever and talented young man. Architect, entrepreneur, future politician….

So 50 cupcakes and all of the trouble and anguish that it entailed (necessitated, one could say) was well worth it. A gift for Clem and his friend who shares this birthday with him, a joint party. So I baked. I used several recipes, two for chocolate cupcakes, two for vanilla. And only one disaster of overfilling and overflowing cupcake batter. By the time that I arrived at the frosting stage, I only had time for my Simple Chocolate Buttercream Frosting, but happily it is the best and my sons’ favorite frosting. So I made six batches. Yes, six. And as the clock inched closer to 6 p.m. and pickup time, I pulled out pastry bag and plain tip, all the colored sprinkles I had in my cupboard, the cookies I bought a day earlier expressly for the purpose and began the assembly line production. If in doubt of one’s piping and decorating skills, simply shower cupcakes with sprinkles.

Ta daaaa!!!

Happy Birthday, Clément!

For the cupcakes, I used:

CHOCOLATE CUPCAKES

Simple One-Bowl Special Chocolate Cake : makes 12 cupcakes

Emergency Blender Chocolate Cupcakes (an Abby Dodge recipe) – makes 12 cupcakes

VANILLA CUPCAKES

Better-Than-Instant Vanilla Cupcakes (an Abby Dodge recipe) – makes 12 cupcakes

Yellow Layer Cake (from The Cake Bible by Rose Levy Beranbaum) : makes about 36 cupcakes filling the cups only half full. Do not overfill!

Try my Vanilla Sponge Cake in cupcake cups for the same light, ethereal cupcake, filling the papers only half full.

Simple Chocolate Buttercream Frosting – without the mascarpone if the cupcakes will be sitting out or made a day ahead. Feel free to whip in mascarpone if serving immediately to have a richer frosting (you will also need less buttercream). Make one – the recipe given is a double batch - recipe of the frosting at a time (or half, as needed), piping as you like. Simply have enough softened butter, powdered sugar and unsweetened cocoa powder on hand and ready to make more single or double batches as needed; this recipe whips up in a flash. If the buttercream is too soft to pipe immediately, simply pop into the refrigerator for 10 minutes or so.

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VANILLA BEAN CINNAMON SPONGE BIRTHDAY CAKE

Writing … frees us from the mass identity we see in the making all around us. 

In the end, writers will write not to be outlaw heroes of some underculture 

but mainly to save themselves, to survive as individuals. 

– Don Delillo 

Salty, sour, bitter, sweet projects lined up on my desktop, teasing, taunting, mocking my laziness, the disorganization of my muddled mind, the disarray of my life. One story down, how many to go? Another birthday come and gone in the madness that is our life with nary a cake in sight. As I get older, I wonder if I get wiser or just crazier. But one thing I do know and can swear by; the more work that piles up on my desk, the more deadlines close in, menacing with their drawn claws and bared teeth, the more I am stimulated, the better and faster I write. I feel like Mike Mulligan and his trusty old steam shovel Mary Anne.

Meanwhile, I spend my days at my desk weaving tales, yet no time for my lonesome little blog. I shut down social media and close myself in a bubble of words and visions. Topics historical, political, personal crowd together, elbowing each other for space, surging forward to be the first out of my fingertips and onto a virgin page.

I write entirely to find out what I’m thinking, 

what I’m looking at, what I see and what it means. 

– Joan Didion 

Yet, yet, I finally had the time to bake my birthday cake; better late than never. The day after, I began pulling out flour and sugar, cinnamon and my box of fragrant vanilla beans, stacking them all up on the counter under my kitchen window. As the hours flew by, and then another day, I would occasionally pause in between words, sentences, paragraphs and forage in the cupboard for one more thing I had forgotten, bars of chocolate, baking soda and cocoa powder. A box of heavy whipping cream. Ah, yes, the jar of jimmies, the chocolate sprinkles. I rifled among the pots and kitchen equipment and found my round layer cake tins and added them to the increasing mountain of supplies on the countertop. And then son appeared.

“Will you bake a chocolate layer cake for a friend’s birthday party tonight? I’m invited and offered to bring a cake.”

Well, am I simply a nice mother willing to bend over backwards to help my child? Or am I just thrilled when one of my sons asks for something homemade? Tickled pink that they are proud enough of my baked goods to bring them to friends, no matter how often they themselves spurn a slice of cake or a cookie themselves? My son coming home after the party and telling me that the cake was eaten in seconds flat, that the birthday girl, when asked a day or two later how the party went could only repeat over and over again “You missed an awesome cake!” is reward enough.

And so a day later, I finally made mine. It has been ages since I made this wonderful sponge and knew that I wanted to flavor it with seeds from a vanilla bean rather than the usual liquid extract and a dash of cinnamon. I paired it with my son’s favorite Simple Chocolate Buttercream and with a drizzle of Orange-Chocolate Ganache. But as I found the sponge too delicate for the buttercream, I will make it again and sandwich the layers with stabilized (a bit of gelatin) whipped cream, the whole topped with the ganache glaze. And I also think that this perfect sponge would make a wonderful 3-layer cake instead of two.
 

Writing is my way of reaffirming my own existence. 

– Gao Xingjian 

 

VANILLA BEAN CINNAMON SPONGE LAYERS
This is a classic sponge, light and ethereal, to which I have added the seeds from one vanilla pod/bean and a dash of cinnamon which I know will work so well with the chocolate and orange of the buttercream frosting and the orange-chocolate ganache.

3 Tbs milk
2 Tbs (30 g) unsalted butter
¾ cup (150 g) sugar
1 vanilla bean or ½ tsp liquid vanilla extract
3/4 cup (95 g) flour, lightly spooned into measuring cups and leveled
1 tsp baking powder
¼ tsp salt
½ tsp ground cinnamon, optional
5 large eggs
A few grains of salt + drop or two of lemon juice to stabilize whites

Preheat the oven to 350°F (180°C). Butter and line two 8-inch (23 cm) round cake tins (measure along the bottom of the tin) with parchment paper.

Prepare the ingredients:

Place the butter and the milk in a small saucepan. Over very low heat, gently warm the milk and butter until the butter is almost but not completely melted. Remove from the heat and swirl the pan until the butter is completely melted. Set aside to cool slightly.

Measure or weigh out the sugar into a small bowl.

In another small bowl, measure or weigh out the flour, baking powder, salt and cinnamon and stir together.

Using a small, sharp knife, slice the vanilla bean down the center and scrape out the seeds.

Separate 3 of the eggs, placing the 3 yolks in a large mixing bowl. Add the 2 remaining whole eggs to the 3 yolks in the large mixing bowl. Place the 3 whites in a small to medium mixing bowl, large enough to hold the yolks when beat into a meringue. Add a few grains salt and a drop or two of lemon to the whites.

Make the cake:

With an electric mixer, beat the 2 whole eggs and the 3 yolks together with 6 tablespoons of the sugar and the seeds from the vanilla bean on high speed, for 4 to 5 minutes until the batter is very thick, light and fluffy and the batter drops off in a slow ribbon when the beaters are lifted. Beat in the vanilla if using the extract.

Using very clean beaters (wash the beaters if you only have one pair), whip the egg whites on low speed for 30 second, then increase the speed to high and continue beating until foamy. Once the whites go from foamy to opaque, gradually begin adding the remaining sugar about a teaspoon at a time. Beat until all the sugar has been added and the meringue is thick and glossy and soft, moist, shiny peaks hold.

Gently fold in a third of the creamy egg white meringue into the cake batter to lighten it, then fold in the remaining beaten whites in two more additions. Sift or spoon half the flour mixture over the batter and gently fold it in before adding the remaining flour and folding in just until incorporated, making sure that no pockets of dry ingredients have formed. Do not over mix.

Make a well on one side of the batter and pour the warm melted butter/milk mixture into the bowl. Gently but thoroughly fold this mixture into the batter. Again, do not over mix.

Divide the batter between the 2 prepared pans, gently smoothing the tops. Bake for about 20 minutes, until the top is light brown and springs back when gently touched in the center. Remove the pans from the oven onto cooling racks and immediately and carefully run a shapr knife around the edges to loosen the cakes from the sides of the pans; this will keep the cakes from ripping as they cool and shrink slightly. Invert the cakes onto wire cooling racks, pull off the parchment paper then invert back, right side up, onto the racks and allow to cool completely before frosting.

SIMPLE & EASY CHOCOLATE BUTTERCREAM FROSTING

12 ounces (350 grams) powdered/confectioner’s sugar
8 ½ tablespoons (120 grams) unsalted butter, softened to room temperature
1.76 oz or scant 7 Tbs (50 grams) unsweetened cocoa powder
4 tablespoons very hot water

Using an electric hand mixer, cream the butter and the powdered sugar until light and fluffy. Add the cocoa powder and the hot water and beat, scraping down the sides as necessary, until well blended and fluffy.

ORANGE CHOCOLATE GANACHE DRIZZLE
Once the cake is decorated, save the remaining ganache to spoon over ice cream or even chill and form into truffles or use in the center of molten lava cakes.

Orange Chocolate Ganache (this recipe can easily be halved):
3.5 oz (100 g) Lindt Excellence Orange Intense or equivalent orange-scented 70% dark chocolate
½ cup (125 ml) heavy cream

Chop the chocolate and place in a small heatproof bowl. Bring the cream just to the boil and pour over the chopped chocolate. Stir until the chocolate is completely melted and the ganache well blended, smooth and creamy. Leave to thicken at room temperature, stirring occasionally, until drizzling consistency. If you like, allow to get very thick and then thin with a bit of Cointreau.

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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.

Read more »

HEAVENLY CHOCOLATE CUPCAKES WITH MOCHA BUTTERCREAM

CHAOS AND COMFORT

Action and reaction, ebb and flow, trial and error, change - this is the rhythm of living.
Out of our over-confidence, fear; out of our fear, clearer vision, fresh hope.
And out of hope, progress.
- Bruce Barton

We have hesitated long enough. We have reasoned, argued, defined, dissected as much as is humanly possible, yet each time we have faltered. At each precipice we have paused and looked back at what lay behind us: solid, predictable, safe ground. We knew that we had no desire to stay on terra firma, not here, not now. But peering over the edge into the unknown or, worse, choosing a direction and plunging head first, only realizing much too late that we had made a mistake, seemed much to dangerous a chance to take. Or jumping into a decision with both feet only to figure out mid-flight that we should have waited just a tad longer, that we missed the real opportunity by giving in too quickly… sigh … But we have run out of words, no longer feel the pull of the argument. The time has finally come to make a determined compromise; time is now truly of the essence as precipitous, as terrifying as it feels. Realtors are being called, numbers totted up, lists made, apartments measured, plans analyzed. And bids mailed in.

We are fully aware that once one chooses to leave the highway and the expected norms of society, throws the predictable to the wind in exchange for paving one’s own path, searching for one’s own particular brand of happiness against everything that life has laid out for you, well, we are fully aware that there are risks involved. Three years ago, we sold our apartment and moved into a rental in order to be free, unfettered to one city, a job, able to pick up, pack up and leave if the urge struck. We could look for new jobs, exciting opportunities or even adventure anywhere on the planet, following our hearts’ desire. We settled down into a daily rhythm and the comfort of working on our own projects, side by side, meeting every so often in the kitchen over a comforting meal or in the livingroom in front of the news or a good film. Weeks then months rolled by, then one year and two, and as we arrive on the threshold of year number three and see our savings beginning to dwindle, we know that now is the time to make that decision, whether to stay in Nantes or leave.

There is nothing wrong with change if it is in the right direction.
- Winston Churchill

My own projects are better served by being in Europe rather than the States, allowing me to write about the life of an expat, my multi-cultural experience and my food-passionate existence as a foreigner and discoverer. JP is barreling towards the confirmation of his own project creation and this requires an extended residency in France, so why not Nantes? For now, our boys are here and it is a sleepy, comfortable town solidly planted amongst the gorgeous vines of Muscadet and the Loire wine valley, near enough to the sea and the gentle lapping of the Loire and Erdre Rivers to allow me year-round enjoyment of her luscious bounty of oysters, scallops, mussels and crab. Close enough to Paris, on the edge of Brittany, a stone’s throw from the rest of Europe. Alors, why continue to pay rent and use up our precious resources when we can be living once again in our own space, within our own four walls, our own home?

Damn the torpedoes! Full steam ahead!
- Admiral Farragut at the Battle of Mobile Bay, 1864

And the race is on. Once Monsieur comes to a decision, all hell breaks loose and we are full steam ahead. His enthusiasm is only matched by his pragmatism; days are spent going through bank accounts with a fine-toothed comb, calculating renovation costs and resale value, discussing details with our in-house architect, printing out announcements, making phone calls, scratching notes in margins and recalculating every expense. A move like this becomes all consuming, our attention requiring forcefully being dragged away from walk-ups, facades, parquet, capital gain and taxes in order to be able to focus on our own work, those continuing projects. This new adventure has added excitement to our comfortable routine and we try and dissuade ourselves as well as each other from building castles in the air, châteaux en espagne, as the French say. We gather together, a wild frenzy of discussion, a flurry of activity, a tumult of hows and what ifs and but what about issue from this corner or that, from one worried son to the other, an intoxicating frisson of energy as we analyze the merits of this apartment visited or the possibilities of the other.

Everyone thinks of changing the world,
but no one thinks of changing himself.
- Leo Tolstoy

Yet, it never is as easy as that is it? He wants to make a bid on the first and I on the second. One son sides with him and the other with me, as far as he is capable of admitting an opinion at all. They want to set up camp in an on-going construction site and renovate, we want the comfort of a tidy, neat home. Discussion rages, pros and cons batted back and forth, doubts and dreams spattered against the walls. Terrified of making the wrong choice, just a tad scared of being pinned down, nervous to place a signature on a piece of paper, binding us to one spot for a length of time, no, decisions like this are fraught with risk, worry and doubt. We have always been terrified of being tied down, committed to something other than each other, our wings clipped, so to speak. We yearn for freedom and are choosing confinement; we hunger for adventure and are tying ourselves down to another we don’t know for how long here. Yet, there is excitement, something stimulating and inspiring about purchasing our own home, like planting a flag in the surface of the moon. We came, we conquered, we decorated!

Change alone is eternal, perpetual, immortal.
- Arthur Schopenhauer

And so, life goes on. I prepare for a trip to New York and a conference; I fill up pages with stories meant one day to be turned into a book or sent off to this magazine or that, my dark hole of writer’s block beginning to melt away. JP works, Simon draws, Clem builds and life goes on, swirling around us in an emotional, action-packed whirlwind of chaos and comfort. Spring has arrived on a swell of sunshine, washing over our happy life in soft, warm waves. The oranges and pears begin to fade from the market stalls, yet to be replaced by sweet berries or stone fruit. Simon clomps endlessly around the house, wandering from his bedroom half an hour before each mealtime and through our workspaces inquiring about lunch or dinner, rolling his eyes in disgust when we look up at him in innocent confusion. He has taken it upon his 21-year-old self to do all the grocery shopping and meal planning, that way guaranteed to find something to eat when he rifles through the refrigerator or is hungry for a lunch or dinner. I am sorry to say that he is not at all happy with our behavior these days, our lack of interest in whipping up delicious dishes or keeping him well supplied in coffee cake, chocolate chip cookies or layer cakes, but I do what I can. Clem is rarely home and when he does show up to join us for dinner complains endlessly that it is a never-ending chain of the same old same old. JP and I laugh and tease, occasionally surprising them with a hearty, fragrant lamb and vegetable couscous, a beef and potato Parmentier or a cheesy gratin. Clem hooks up his computer to the television set, pulls up an American police series and we settle down happily for the evening.


Since rediscovering the joys of my mother’s old community and Sisterhood cookbooks and after my successes with the Chocolate Chip Pecan Butter Horns and her own Chocolate Chip Nut Bread, I decided to delve into Abigail Serves, the community cookbook put together, under the watchful and formidable eye of my mother’s aunt, Great Aunt Mae in 1956. Abigail Serves is the collected recipes of The United Order of True Sisters of Albany, New York. Perusing the yellowed, faded pages of this self-published cookbook, I couldn’t help myself when I came across Heavenly Chocolate Cake; with such a name, who could resist? Before the days when adding a box of pudding mix to cake batter was all the rage, this recipe is based upon this very idea to create a dense, moist cake. A chocolate pudding-like cream or custard is prepared with sugar, milk, cocoa powder and an egg then added to the cake batter to create a luxuriously thick and creamy mixture. Once baked, the cake is a deep, dark chocolate, the sweetness perfectly balanced, the texture extra moist without being overly gooey and dense, which as we all know, Simon the persnickety hates. Light, fluffy yet moist and tender, full-flavored, the chocolate kissed by the barest hint of espresso as I decided to replace some of the water in the batter with prepared coffee. I frosted the cupcakes with my own, favorite simple chocolate buttercream recipe, again replacing the boiling water with prepared café au lait. Scrumptious. And everybody was happy and well satisfied.

With Aunt Mae in Miami Beach, circa 1962.

Please hop over to Huffington Post Food to read my latest article You Are What You Eat: A Food Blogger’s Dilemma. Should I even be asking the question? What do you think?


And speaking of From Plate to Page, due to an unexpected cancellation, there are now a couple of spaces open for our exciting Somerset workshop in May. If you are looking for an intimate, hands-on, practical workshop providing you with the tools, instruction and inspiration to define and hone your food writing, styling and photography skills and kick start your creativity all in a convivial, fun- and food-filled weekend then Plate to Page is for you! For details about the workshop, the four instructors (I teach food writing) and registration, please visit out our website! But hurry, spaces are limited to 12 and they are going fast! Questions? Visit our new FAQ page!


HEAVENLY CHOCOLATE CAKE
Makes 9-inch double layer cake or about 14 large chocolate cupcakes.

For the chocolate cream:

¾ cup (150 g) sugar
¾ cup (75 g) unsweetened cocoa powder
¾ cup (185 ml) milk
1 large egg

For the batter:

2/3 cup (150 g) unsalted butter
1 ¼ cups (250 g) sugar
3 large eggs
2 ¼ cup (255 g) sifted flour (sifted BEFORE measuring, not measured then sifted)
1 tsp salt
½ tsp baking powder
2/3 cup (165 ml) cold water (can replace some of the water with prepared coffee)
1 tsp vanilla
1 ¾ tsp baking soda
¼ cup (62 ml) warm water

Prepare the Chocolate Custard:

Whisk the sugar, cocoa powder, milk and egg together in a medium saucepan until thick, creamy and very smooth. Place the saucepan over low heat and very gently bring to a low boil. Whisking constantly, continue to cook for 2 to 3 minutes longer until it becomes a thick sauce or custard. (Once the mixture is heated, the sauce thins and then re-thickens as it cooks.) Remove from the heat, set aside and allow to cool. As I use Le Creuset, which continue to heat even after the pan is removed from the flame, I immediately scraped the custard into a heatproof Pyrex bowl to cool.

Prepare the cake:

Preheat the oven to 350°F (180°C). Either butter two 9-inch layer cake pans and line the bottom of each with parchment or oven paper or line cupcake tins with paper cup liners.

In a large mixing bowl, cream the butter and sugar until blended and light. Beat in the eggs one at a time just until blended. Beat or stir in the chocolate custard in a few additions, blending thoroughly. Stir the sifted flour, baking powder and salt together; beat the flour mixture into the batter in three additions alternating with the cold water in two, beginning and ending with the dry ingredients. Add the vanilla.

Dissolve the baking soda in the warm water then stir quickly into the cake batter until very well blended. Pour into the prepared cake pans or ladle into the cupcake cups and bake in the preheated oven for 35 to 40 minutes until puffed, the center is set and a tester inserted in the center comes out dry.

Allow to cool on racks – if baking the cake layers, allow to cool in pans for 10 minutes before running a sharp knife around each cake to loosen and turn out onto cooling racks. For the cupcakes, remove the cupcake cups from the tins and allow to cool completely on cooling racks.

Frost when cooled.


SIMPLE CHOCOLATE OR MOCHA BUTTERCREAM FROSTING

Double the ingredients if making a layer cake for spreading in between the layers, the top and sides of the cake. A single recipe will suffice for cupcakes.

6 oz (175 grams) powdered/confectioner’s sugar
4 Tbs (60 grams) unsalted butter, softened to room temperature
0.9 oz (25 grams) unsweetened cocoa powder
2 Tbs boiling water, hot prepared coffee or café au lait

Using an electric hand mixer, cream the butter and the powdered sugar together. Add the cocoa powder and the boiling water or coffee and beat, scraping down the sides as necessary, until well blended and fluffy.

Chill in the refrigerator until firm enough so that, if making a layer cake, when spread and the layers are stacked, the frosting does not slide.

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