I AM ... The Secret Santa

This year for my Secret Santa gift I had decided that no matter whose name I pulled out of the hat, I would bake something for that person that I was sure they would love. This was mostly because I had stumbled on a lovely rack of packaging for baked goods at Michael's that I couldn't help but spend too much money on. It was all planned out perfectly, until the name I pulled out of the hat belonged to a woman who cannot have any gluten. I was a bit bummed until I realized that this was the perfect opportunity to make some more macarons. I could experiment and try out some of the fancy oils and extracts that I have collected (not hoarded!!). I settled on three different kinds of shells-- pistachio, raspberry, and vanilla-- and three different fillings--custard, anise buttercream, and lemon buttercream.

Making the macaron shells was easy enough, although after the 100th little cookie I did learn that there are definitely some tricks and shortcuts that make them a lot less intimidating. However, that being said, the best trick is to read the recipe fully before you even start (for some reason, I still haven't fully learned that one...). Layering your baking sheets will definitely make your cookies thinner and sexier, but you will have to adjust your baking time or else you'll be wondering why they're still raw inside after they've been in the oven for nearly an hour. And not all sil-pat baking sheet covers will allow you to effortlessly peel off your freshly baked macs. In fact, I would say stay away from the sil-pat mats all together and just use parchment paper for this one. So much easier.

Also, as tempting as it is to buy the expensive raspberry extract from the specialty food store because it MUST be delicious... just don't do it. Seriously. It's not delicious. I have never in my life tasted a raspberry that tasted quite that potent and... terrible. The extract made the macs taste very strong and alcoholy, but combined with the anise buttercream, they were really nummy.

Unfortunately too, I have to say that my lemon buttercream ended up tasting like lemony fresh sunlight soap. Stupid lemon extract. Next time, I will stick to lemon rind or lemon oil, I promise. Lesson learned. Mostly. The anise extract made for absolutely scrumptious buttercream that I ate by the spoonful. Dangerous.

A Third Swedish Princess Torte for Easter

A huge log of fresh marzipan was waiting for me on the kitchen table early Easter morning. Its purpose: to cover six layers of genoisie cake filled with pastry cream and strawberry jam, topped with an enormous heap of stabilized whipping cream. My mission was to have this potentially elegant Swedish delicacy baked, filled, covered, wrapped in a pretty bow, and cooling in the garage before noon.

Shockingly, I did just that.

Making the cake itself was very simple. Beating whole eggs with sugar until the mixture had quadrupled in size and then gently folding in sifted flour (the key was to sift the flour over the egg mixture while folding at the same time so that I didn't end up with lumps of flour) were really the only two steps that needed to be taken to successfully (more or less) pull off the genoisie. The purpose of using a genoisie instead of a standard white cake is because this particular french confection is known to be really dry and somewhat tasteless until it is filled and sauced. Because the Swedish Princess Torte is so creamy, a more moist cake (like the Martha Cake I used for my last SPT) makes the final product dense and almost mushy. From all that I've learned, Swedes are anything but mushy.

The most difficult part about making the pastry cream and the strawberry jam was fending off the family that couldn't wait until it was in the torte before they got a taste.

Pastry cream has become one of absolute favorite things to make. This was after many pitched attempts that turned out looking just like scrambled eggs in water and tasting not too much better. When done right, pastry cream or custard takes on a smoothe texture and a rich taste that envelopes you like a warm hug and makes you smile against your will. Mixed with a fresh strawberry puree and you have simple bliss.

Once the cake was put together and topped with a generous (very generous) heap of stabilized whipping cream, I went about the task of colouring and laying on the marzipan. It's almond sugar paste and it's finicky. But I perservered and came away triumphant. Sure, it looked a bit like Shrek's head on a platter, but it was delicious nonetheless. Creamy and almondy with six (SIX!!) layers of cake that melted in your mouth. All done by noon.

Sometimes I am awed by my own awesomeness when under pressure.

Pomegranates, Pistachios, and Those Teeny Little Oranges

I've never been overly concerned with the presentation of the food that I make. Creating artwork that will make people ooh and ahh when they see it has never been the goal. Instead, I've always preferred to make people's eyes roll back in their heads after they take their first bite. I do, however, realize the value in being able to make mouths salivate and eyes dilate when people see something that looks like edible paradise.

For the longest time I considered this element of food-- the aesthetics element-- to be overrated and unnecessary. If the food tasted like delicious perfection, than shouldn't that be enough? There are probably people who believe the exact opposite about food presentation, that if the food looks like sweet bliss, than it's alright if it tastes mediocre.

Since Christmas though, I've been wanting to try and create food that looks as tantalizing as it tastes. I've gotten inspiration from the MANY cookbooks that I received for Christmas as well as other blogs that emphasize the beauty and artistry in any kind of food you try to put together. One of my favorite blogs for this is Cannelle et Vanille, and that is where I got the inspiration to make these pistachio pavlovas with colorful seasonal fruit and lemon curd.

I had a bunch of leftover eggwhites in the fridge from a (failed) attempt at creme brulee the night before and knew that meringues would be eaten up fast no matter what. It was also an excuse to make lemon curd, something I will eat by the spoonful if given the chance.

Overall, the pavlovas themselves turned out to be quite good. The crushed pistachios gave them a subtle flavor that went really well with the pomegranates and the honey oranges. However, the intense citrus sweetness of the lemon curd combined with the sugary meringue was too overpowering for me. If I were to make these again, I would use a custard or creme anglaise instead of the lemon curd just to balance out the sweetness.
All said, however, they did turn out to be very pretty little desserts that made the table ohh and ahh.

my KLA-FOO-TEE...

"What's for dessert?"
"I'm making clafoutis."
"Sounds like an STD. Or STI if I'm being politically correct, but I'm sure it will be yummy... whatever it is!"
"It will be yummy. French."
"Hey, I'd eat syphilis if it was on a dessert menu."

Making a dessert that no one quite knows how to pronounce definitely has its advantages. The first of which being that your test subjects will usually have no idea what they're about to put in their mouths. You can also get the idea into your head that you need to create a dish called "syphilis" that tastes so absolutely delicious that all people will say that they would eat syph. Weird.

I used pluots again as the fruity aspect of my clafoutis. Traditionally, this dessert is made with dark cherries (pits and all), but because I'm having a love affair with the tart-suculent flavor and bright pink color of the pluots and wanted to use as many of them as I could before they went out of season.

This is my sister's favorite dessert. She gotten into the habit of begging me to make it at every possible opportunity. Because of this, I have used any and every friut at hand to crreate this dessert from blackberries to canned peaches (although I wouldn't recommend the canned peaches as they are far too bland and add nothing at all to the taste of the dish). From this, I learned that the more tart the fruit, the better the clafoutis turns out (and this can be true for many other desserts as well).

I've tried two different recipes or this dish. One was a fancy recipe involving heating the milk and cream over the stove with the vanilla before whisking in the eggs. The other was a far simpler method whereby you just throw all the ingredients into the mixer, mix for a while until frothy, and then pour it into your baking dish. The simple one I found in a food magazine alongside an ad for cream and I believe it is, by far, the better of the two in terms of ease, taste, and time. Taste being, naturally, the most important consideration!

Raspberry Peach Clafouti
(from a Real Cream ad in a magazine I don't remember)

1. Butter a deep 9 or 10 inch pie plate. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
2. Beat 3 large eggs and 1/2 cup granulated sugar in a medium bowl using an electric mixer. Add 3/4 cup cream and beat until combined. Stir in 1 tsp vanilla, 1/2 cup all purpose flour, and a pinch of salt.
3. Sprinkle fruit on the bottom of the prepared dish. Pour batter over fruit.
4. Bake in preheated oven for about 45 minutes or until set. Cover loosely with foil during cooking if top is browning too fast. Serve warm or cold. Serves 6-8.