Roses Are Red

Sweet Gumdrop-

Oh, how I look forward to the days of trying to whip up dessert for a crowd at 2am after wrangling two toddlers into bed, high on sugar and holiday excitement. Only four more months to go until I turn into a midnight baker like you. With our similar schedules and complementary baking skills, perhaps we should open a bakery?

Since I’m trying to follow unsolicited advice to make the last few childless months special for the IE (in between my unpredictable mood swings where he’s briefly the most maddening individual on earth, at least to a hormonal mess like me) and since a little extra gesture for Mr. Salty might not be amiss following your holiday lovers quarrel, I’m going to issue the next challenge a little early so we can spend some serious time on this one: handmade valentine’s chocolates. These can’t just be run of the mill caramels and truffles: these must be the most romantic chocolates ever. I’m not entirely sure what that means, but I’ll just consider that part of the challenge!

Sweet dreams,
Pickle

Merry - But I'm Not So Bright

Dear Pickle -

Wait a minute, though, weren't you that perfect, put-together girl in high school? All appearances suggest that you must have been. Indeed, I think you still are - now with added meal-making skills. It wasn't hard for me to be convinced that Dorie's peppermint cream puff ring was the right choice! Maybe it was just me buckling under your perfect and put-together air...

It's funny, though, we seem to have had exactly opposite experiences with the recipe. I got one of my baking highs from the way the pate-a-choux came together. Piping warm dough blew my mind, and the fact that it made such a patisserie-perfect ring so very easily for me made me feel like a sorceress of flour! My family will bow before my desserty prowess!

But, um, making this late on Christmas night after the chaos of a Two Toddler Holiday may have been beyond my sorcery stamina. It came time to steep the mint leaves in the warm cream - and I realized that it was midnight and I was too freaking exhausted to set the alarm for three a.m. to take the mint leaves out of the cream. A few years ago, pre-kids, I would've done that. But, exhausted as I was, I knew I'd be up at six anyway so I figured that three more hours of cold time in the fridge wouldn't intensify the mint flavour TOO much. Right? Most of the flavour comes when the cream is warm anyway. Like making tea. Right? RIGHT?

At six a.m. when I tasted the mint cream, I realized immediately that I was WRONG. And that I probably wouldn't need to brush my teeth. For a week. This mint cream did not 'whisper' of fresh, refreshing mint leaves. This mint cream SCREAMED and beat you about the head. It was like chewing an entire bunch of fresh mint. Unless you are a goat, I am not certain that this is a good idea.

So. You may have noticed that in the photo above (featuring my nephew), the cream is not the snow-white one might have expected. That's because the kitchen sorceress took over again and decided to make a 'quick' version of Dorie's Chocolate Pastry Cream to fold into the mint cream. It'd be like having a candy cane in your hot chocolate! Never mind that there was a car to pack for the three hour drive north (presents, children, snacks, Xanax - PLUS a three hour drive, PLUS a family Christmas, PLUS a three hour drive home), I told myself I could do it and 'whipped it up'. While having a dreadful fight with my husband about my culinary brinksmanship and my inability to just let things be. Very festive, right? I folded the new chocolate pastry cream into the mint cream - delicious! I piped it onto the ring, topped it with the luscious glaze and sighed in relief. As an olive branch, I magnanimously offered the spoon to the hubby to lick, doffed my apron and began to pack.

His face, however, immediately told me that my solution hadn't been as successful as I thought. He asked if I had really intended for dessert to taste like a chocolate mojito. Off came the top of the ring, on went the apron, I whipped up a huge quantity of plain whipped cream, folded in this now-annoying-chocolate-candy-cane combo, re-piped. Exhausted, the ring and I collapsed into the car.

But the ring traveled well. Better than I did, actually. It did gather a few oooohs and awwwwwwwwws and the mint flavour was toned-down enough to qualify as 'interesting' rather than 'INTENSE and possibly INSANE'.

So it was that I was neither perfect nor put-together. But I survived, we ate, my husband forgave me and it was indeed kinda merry and bright. I guess that is all you can ask for from a family holiday, sorceress or not.

What's next? What's the 2010 dessert?
Desperate to know,
Gumdrop

A Dessert Knock-Off

Dear Gumdrop-

My relief at coming to a peaceful compromise of Dorie Greenspan's Peppermint Cream Puff Cream for our Boxing Day dessert didn't last long once it came time to make it.

You know in high school there was always that girl who was effortlessly perfect? She was pretty and smart and everyone liked her? And no matter how hard you tried to emulate her style, her easy, breezy way of flirting with the brawny hockey player and the alt-rock poet, you could just never be like her? I have woefully concluded that Dorie Greenspan is her culinary equivalent.

Ravenous to be like her, I flip through Dorie’s books, I devour her blog and yet my attempts at replicating her recipes never quite come out as gorgeous, as effortlessly chic, as hers. At best, my Peppermint Cream Puff Ring was like a knock-off Calvin Klein dress your mom made you for a semi-formal (or maybe that was just me): pretty enough, but a little misshapen and more homemade than handmade.

My first attempt at the cream puff ring fell flat. A perpetual fear of over-baking was the culprit. Sometimes ‘golden brown’ really does need to be deep golden brown to come out right. So, on the second attempt I baked that thing until it was the colour of unpolished brass just before it turns green. And hurrah, a ring that stayed puffed.

The steeped mint leaves and cream was a lovely silky surprise. The mint was vibrant yet not obnoxious. Peppermint whipped cream may become one of my hostess tricks for 2010. Of course, I failed to whip it to a stiff enough peak, so it fell a bit when I placed the top on. But it was the day after Christmas, so did anyone really care?

And while the chocolate topping was delicious (so that’s the secret of bakery éclair tops – corn syrup!), it did end up looking a little homely, which meant my toasted almond skepticism quickly turned into appreciation. They were the pearls that transformed a basic black dress into something worthy of Coco Chanel (or at least her premiere d’atelier de couture).

Even though my little cream puff ring didn’t quite match the lavishly styled one in Dorie’s book, it was a terrific success with both sets of parents. With just the right post-Christmas light touch of chocolate, pastry and cream, it was a chic dessert to follow the heavy comfort of copious amount of holiday sweets.

Here's to a whole new year of challenges, culinary or otherwise!

xo
Pickle

P.S. Sorry about the lack of picture. My mother hasn't figured out how to download the pictures from her digital camera yet and my current state of baby brain prevented me from doing it for her this weekend.

Rumble in the Kitchen

Oh, Gumdrop, I think we're in for a bit of a rumble on this one, which isn't exactly in the holiday spirit of things. You've been too kind to let me participate in this decision. And more importantly, you've given me these options after I was grilled by my maman about precisely what I was bringing for Boxing Day dinner. Have you faced the wrath of a mother entertaining her daughter's in-laws for Box Day? I dithered, I waffled, I crumbled. I ran to Dorie too and came up with three options: the cranberry shortbread cake, the chocolate armagnac cake or the peppermint cream puff ring. Using your exact rationale, I settled on the cream puff ring (I do adore a pate a choux). My mother could sleep easy now that her menu was complete (although I suspect she tossed and turned a little about the table decor).

However, since I graciously told my mother that I would get the ingredients so she wouldn't have to, I do have some mom-free time to change my mind. So I propose the current contenders are: pavlova (although those upside-down Australians celebrate Christmas during their summer), a chocolate cream tart or the peppermint cream puff ring.

Round #2...

merry, merry,
Pickle

P.S. At least your childhood barf-fest was the result of a boozey dessert. Mine was a 4 year old's adventure drinking the dregs from beer bottles during a cottage afternoon. I've hated beer ever since. Don't both those stories tell you everything you need to know about growing up in the 70s?

The Mohammed Ali of Desserts...

Dear Pickle:

So it's a tough time to fit a challenge in, but I know you and I are facing the same dilemma this year. What dessert can we possibly bring to Boxing Day dinner to satisfy a mixed bag of fam and in-laws? This is a serious challenge!!!

Some people might think this an easy problem. These people are not us. The dessert in question must fit the following criteria:
1. Must travel well. No frozen things, elaborate constructions or whipped cream as an integral ingredient (added at the last minute whipped cream is fine, although a bit fussy.)
2. Must be interesting enough for a special dinner but not contain supremely weird flavours. It's gotta be special but if it is too 'sophisticated', we could lose some of our dessert eaters to the goodie tray, which should be considered a failure of desserting. Also, because there will be children, alcohol should be kept to a minimum (the time I got accidentally drunk and barfed at Thanksgiving at the ripe old age of eight might be 'memorable', but I am not sure it ought to be repeated.)
3. Must be festive but not heavy. This has gotta land nicely on a belly full of turkey. Ugh, I feel full already. Maybe we should just make mints.
4. Must be impressive but not intimidatingly so. People should like it but, like dressing for a wedding, we can't outdo the 'bride' (i.e. hosts). Croquembouche is probably out. Also, I have 5,000 other things to do in the next couple of days so we kinda gotta keep it real.

You have already expressed disdain for trifle, so I will save that challenge for another time. Mwahahahhahaha. My veto goes to fruitcake and/or mincemeat.

Because I am feeling festively generous and this is indeed important, herewith please find three suggestions for your boxing approval. Punch the one you like.

1. A chocolate Yule log. Just kidding. .
2. A Christmas Cheesecake from Epicurious - This may break #3 and/or be impossibly 80s. But it DOES sound good!
3. A tasty Pavlova from Nigella - . This is the traditional Australian Christmas dessert, so they must be on to something. Does require a little last minute fussing with whipping cream and fruit (which we can surely take some license with.) But sometimes it's nice to hide in the kitchen for a few minutes, if your host doesn't mind...?
4. A Dorie Greenspan tart. Maybe Chocolate Cream (I'd toy with a plain crust rather than chocolate to stay within #3)? Or Toasted Coconut Custard (although is coconut too divisive re #2?) Or Fresh Orange Cream?

Er, as you can see, I'm dithering. Whaddya think?

Love,
Gumdrop

Hey Hey You Ugly

So now it’s my turn to apologize for a very tardy post, Gumdrop. I did this post weeks ago, but work and life have kept me from writing about it until now. And maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t in too much of a rush to show you the ugliest thing I’ve ever baked.

Given the terrible reputation roulades have, I decided to be brash, be bold, be confident as I prepared for the challenge. I whipped up the cake batter, spread it into the jellyroll pan and deftly tossed it into the oven. Shabam - a roulade superstar was born!

Except that’s when I noticed I’d filled the pan too much. The cake came out far too fluffy, but repeating my mantra, I covered it in plastic wrap and a wet tea towel and rolled that sucker up.

Next, I tackled the buttercream. Did this recipe feel like a lot of work for not much reward or was it just me? Sure, it tasted good, but it wasn’t that different than good old swiss buttercream. Maybe it picked up on my skepticism because just as I was adding the last pat of butter, it all separated. I slapped the bowl into an ice bath and did what I could, but I’d developed a bad attitude toward the whole endeavour and it didn’t do much to improve the frosting.

Feeling like a kitchen delinquent, I unrolled my cake, and of course, that puffy cake split apart. In an effort to just get the damn thing done, I slapped on some nutella and then added a layer of the buttercream and struggled to roll it all up into a neat log. I didn’t succeed in the “neat” department.

Things took a final bad turn when I tried to ice it with the sub-standard buttercream. After 4 hours of work, I was past caring. I slapped that icing on like I was Sandra Lee making her grandmother’s peach birthday cake with canned frosting and Ziploc bags.
It was a sad day in my kitchen.

I contemplated throwing it out and beginning again, but I couldn’t face it. Then I remembered when my mother first started quilting and she made what has become known as ‘the ugly quilt’. It looked like something frugal Ma Ingalls would have made during a desperately cold Prairie winter – and tossed away because it was so ugly. I dug through my closets and found that ugly quilt and used it as the backdrop for my ugly cake. I was a little heartened to think this was just my ugly first attempt at a roulade and if I keep at it, I might make roulades as beautiful as the quilts my mother makes now.

I wound up taking the cake to a dinner party at a friend’s becaujavascript:void(0)se a) I didn’t have time to pick up a bottle of wine after spending the entire afternoon on this cake and b) I still didn’t want the ugly thing hanging around my house! Due to my friend’s own dessert disaster, the ugly cake was joyously welcomed and devoured. It was the yummiest ugly looking cake ever.

xo
P