Apple Pie, Patis, and Pâté

Chocolate pot de crème is my dessert of choice for intimate gatherings because it is easily scalable and can be made a day in advance. A silky custard baked in single-serving portions, pots de crème can be topped with fresh fruits, whipped cream, or chocolate shavings to make a dainty-looking but unfussy dessert.

You may already have the ingredients necessary to make this version of pots de crème, perhaps with the exception of chocolate liquor. Chocolate liquor is also known as baking chocolate, consisting of roughly 50% cocoa powder, 50% cocoa butter, and 0% sugar. The bitterness will short-circuit your palate for a bit so don’t confuse it with regular sweetened chocolate when snacking. A small amount is enough to lend the custard a deep but pleasant bittersweet flavor.

View Pots de Crème au Chocolat recipe »

I grinned like an idiot as I lifted the dark brown loaves from the charred baking stone with bare hands. The soft crust smiled back with its wide open slashes, a sight that every bread maker hopes for upon opening the oven door. It didn’t matter that my calloused fingertips started to burn or that hot air threatened to singe my eyebrows into an unnatural curl; the scent of steaming mugs of hot chocolate made the pain strangely comforting.

Half melted chocolate morsels that clung perilously to the crust instead of being safely nestled inside the warm loaf tempted me to pick on it. I decided to wait until the following morning, a cup of freshly brewed coffee in hand.

More importantly, I decided to wait until after taking photos.

If you read this far, two things may seem obvious: the coffee I’m having as I write this is really strong and this semisweet chocolate bread is pure bliss.

View Pane al Cioccolato - Italian Chocolate Bread formula »

Making pâte à choux has always been intimidating but now that I’ve tried it once, I can’t wait to use it again. Gazing at the colorful options behind glass display cases in local pastry shops, I’m thinking, “I can’t make any of this.” Now I can proudly cross out éclairs, cream puffs, profiteroles, and Paris-Brest out of The Long List of Things I Can’t Must Make.

The pastry dough is cooked twice, first on the stovetop to create a paste and then finished in the oven after piping the desired shape. Choux is French for “cabbage,” referring to the irregular shape that a round piece of pâte à choux takes. While baking, steam is trapped inside the dough to create a crisp hollow shell. It can serve as the perfect wrapper for fillings such as ice cream for profiteroles and in the case of éclairs, decadent chocolate pastry cream.

View Pierre Hermé's Chocolate Éclairs recipe »

Do you twist Oreos apart and eat the filling by itself? Doing the same filling finagling maneuver with Fig Newtons is a lot messier but I can’t help it. The is-it-cake-or-is-it-cookie sawdust exterior merely gets in the way of fig enjoyment by jamming itself in between teeth and up roofs of mouth. It’s nothing more than a bland delivery device for the sweet interior if you ask me.

I only want the fig filling. This classic Spanish method for preserving and spicing figs satisfies that need and soundly beats anything an automatic fig extruder can produce.

Unlike Oreo filling, which is basically shortening creamed with sugar, figs and almonds are the main ingredients in pan de higo so it also has a lot going for it in the nutritional value department. Both are packed with nutrients — figs are rich in fiber and almonds supposedly keep you smart. Compare with the effects of eating massive amounts of sweetened semisolid fat: sugar high, crash, guilt, and depression, most likely in that order.

View Pan de Higo - Spanish Fig Cake recipe »

The thought of gently clasping a star-tipped pastry bag to make cookies was laughable until fairly recently. It may not seem obvious from posts that involve feats of manual dexterity and shameless whipping, but I am, in fact, a red-blooded male.

While I appreciate any passing mention from fellow bloggers that find my posts somewhat amusing, I can’t help but feel awkward when referred to as a “she” or “her.” Is it my writing style? Is it my amateurish attempts at styling my food photos? My recipe selection, perhaps? Should I start posting about steaks, buffalo wings, and chili?

In any case, these buttery cookies do not help my case at all. For one thing, they’re French. Things that require accented characters to spell or nasal inflection to pronounce are generally associated with sophistication and plucked eyebrows, neither of which apply to me. The recent spectacle of French emasculation in front of an audience of 1.3 billion can also only worsen things, so I’m in a bit of a pinch.

View recipe for Sables à la Poche Cookies »