It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Post-Christmas

 

What will you be doing on December 28th?

I've been spending a good part of my day throwing furtive glances around me. As I write this, I have one hand digging into a box of quince candied fruit squares (called pâte de fruit in France) because I just couldn't stand thinking about them anymore.

In front of me are three bowls. One is filled with lychees, and the other two are piled high with chocolate. If I round the corner near the fireplace, I head towards the cookie box. The kitchen is the riskiest zone in the house. You'll wish you were Shiva and had many more hands than you do now, just so you could dig into the box of candied chestnuts, the gingerbread house, caramel marshmallows, and a giant Toblerone all at once. I guess maybe I should put multiple arms on my Christmas list for next year.

Now, let's imagine you wanted to get a little work out by climbing up the stairs. Watch out! In my room are the contents of my Christmas stocking...more chocolate.

Some would say I'm living in paradise, and I pretty much agree. I must be dreaming, though. I think I need an extra chocolate just to make sure this is all real. Then again, my friends, this is Post-Christmas: time to eat vegetables, limit yourself to five chocolates a day, and stop putting your Christmas presents into piles just to look at them over and over again.

Who am I kidding? I do that with my Christmas presents all year long. I hope you had a wonderful holiday; I know I sure did. The days after Christmas make some people sad, but the only reason I can think of is that there's no more chocolate yule log left.

In France, the chocolate bûche is a classic--and usually my Maman's thing. I was always a big eater of bûche, but never tried my hand at making one until this year. And since I would rather eat something good than completely failed on Christmas day, I only did half of the work and teamed up with my Maman for the rest.

This would make a great dessert all throughout the holiday season, so if you're looking for a beautiful way to end a meal, give this recipe by the esteemed Jacques Pépin a try. It's tasty and light, so you'll be able to polish off the bowl of chocolates afterwards.

Sounds like a plan I would stick to.

Chocolate Yule Log

from The Art of Cooking by Jacques Pépin

serves 10 to 12

for Jelly Roll Cake:

8 eggs, separated

2/3 c. granulated sugar

1 TS vanilla

2/3 c. flour

for Chocolate Pastry Cream Filling:

3 egg yolks

1/3 c. granulted sugar

2 TB cornstarch

1 TS vanilla

1 1/2 c. milk

5 oz. bittersweet or semi-sweet chocolate, broken into pieces

for Rum-Chocolate Ganache:

4 oz. bittersweet or semi-sweet chocolate

1/2 c. heavy cream

1 TB dark rum

for Decorations (optional):

1/2 tube marzipan

food coloring

Make Jelly Roll Cake: Preheat oven to 350°F / 180°C.

Beat 8 egg yolks, 2/3 c. sugar and vanilla together until very fluffy and smooth, approximately 1 minute. Add flour and whisk until smooth.

Beat egg whites until firm. Fold yolk mixture gently into whites.

Butter a parchment paper-lined jelly roll pan (12 x 16 in). Spread cake batter evenly on top.

Bake for approximately 15 minutes. Cake will deflate as it cools.

Make Pastry Cream: Beat egg yolks, sugar, cornstarch and vanilla together.

Meanwhile, bring milk to a boil. Pour boiling milk into yolk mixture, whisk, and return to saucepan. Bring to a boil, whisking constantly, and boil for about 10 seconds. remove from heat.

Add chocolate and stir gently until chocolate is melted and evenly distributed. Transfer to a bowl, cover and refrigerate.

Assembly: When the pastry cream is cold, spread it on top of the cake (with parchment paper still underneath cake). Lift up the cake using the paper and roll it on itself. Wrap in parchment paper and refrigerate overnight or up to one day.

Finish Log: Cut off both ends at an angle--these ends will be used to make the "stumps" on top of the log.

Make ganache: Melt chocolate in a double boiler. Place cream and rum in a bowl and pour melted chocolate on top. Whisk for 15 to 30 seconds until mixture lightens slightly in color. Do not overwhisk, which would cause discoloration and hardening of the ganache. 

Coat cake with a small layer of ganache. Place "stumps" on top. Continue coating with ganache and using a fork, create a bark effect.

Optional: Using marzipan and food coloring, make marzipan leaves and mushrooms to place on log.

Refrigerate until serving. 

One Last Snickers Blondie

I think I'm on vacation.

Actually, I'm pretty sure you could call it an extended vacation. Truth is, I can't even count down the days until my vacation is over, because as of now it's a permanent situation.

You see, I'm done with my internship, and done with school. Does that mean I have to get a job? I think it does...

Can I just pretend I'll never have to, and bake Snickers blondies instead? Oh, I can hear you. You think Snickers blondies might be going a little overboard in the junk food category. I could have made Snickers - Mars - Peanut Butter Blondies, and then I might have gone a little too far. Maybe. Or maybe not: in France, the appreciation of a generic "American Baked Good" seems to be proportional to how much of a sugar and butter bomb it is.

In celebration of my last day at work, I brought Snickers blondies in honor of my co-workers, especially the Snickers aficionados among them. Taking pictures of baked goods is nice, but photos of friends enjoying them is even better.

After some awkward posing, I let them dive head-first into their blondies as a reward. I've come to realize that nothing makes you happier than a blondie, whatever the flavor. M&M's? I'm on it. White chocolate? Anytime.

Snickers? Well... chocolate, caramel, peanuts. In a blondie. Does this really need further explanation?

Snickers Blondies

makes approximately 20 bite-sized blondies

8 TB butter, melted

1/2 c. brown sugar

1/4 c. granulated sugar

1 c. flour

1/2 TS salt

1 egg

1 TS vanilla extract

2 Snickers bars, chopped

Preheat oven to 350°F / 180°C.

In a large bowl, mix butter and sugars. Add egg, vanilla, and whisk together.

Add flour and salt; mix to combine. Stir in Snickers bars and pour into a parchment paper-lined 8x8 inch pan.

Bake for approximately 30 minutes, until a knife inserted into the center comes out clean but moistened.

Cool in pan and cut into pieces. Store in an airtight container.

Who Stole my Stollen?

Also known as,

"Why do I keep instant yeast with a December 2009 use-by date?"

Like with many a baked good not involving chocolate or obscene amounts of sugar, stollen and I have a rocky past.

For those of you unfamiliar with stollen, it is a bread-cake hybrid usually enjoyed during the Christmas season in Germany. Chock full of dried fruit, some versions also have an alluring marzipan center--you'll have no trouble guessing that's my favorite part.

When I was younger, I made a run for the chocolate or sugar-covered lebkuchen when Christmastime came around. My sister, meanwhile, indulged in stollen: the one thing I probably never tried to pry from her hands. I'd rather we didn't get into all those Barbie heads I pulled off. No, really, I'm not even sure that ever happened.

Fortunately for me and unfortunately for my calorie intake, I grew into loving every and any baked good I can get my hands on. Stollen is no exception. The yeasty cake is made even more moist thanks to raisins, almonds and candied zest. The taste doesn't scream "HOLIDAY SEASON!", yet hints at it with elegant subtelty.

Now, a stollen made with yeast that doesn't provoke any chemical reaction is another story. It becomes a denser block of dough and fruit--one with a marzipan filling. Meaning, I ate it anyway and it wasn't bad at all. And I guess even my sister agreed.

I'm quite positive, however, that Mary's recipe which I used and adapted according to what I had on hand is great--and all aspiring stolleners (stollen makers in made-up language) should have a go at it.

It's sure to be a Stollen Christmas--just don't tell anyone you're the thief.

Dresdner Stollen

makes two medium loaves

recipe adapted from One Perfect Bite

2 3/4 c.  flour
1/4 TS salt
1 scant TB instant yeast
1/2 c. milk
6 TB butter
1/4 c. sugar
1 large egg, lightly beaten
3/4 c. dark raisins
3/4 c. white raisins
zest of one lemon
zest of one orange
1/2 c. lightly toasted chopped almonds
1 tube (6 to 7-ounces) almond paste
Confectioners' sugar

In a medium bowl, mix salt and flour. Microwave on high for 1 minute, or heat in a saucepan for 2 minutes, watching closely. Add yeast and whisk.

Heat butter, milk, and hugar in a saucepan over medium heat until sugar is dissolved and butter is melted. Let cool slightly. When mixture is tepid, add egg and whisk to combine.

Blend both mixtures together and add raisins and zest.

On a floured surface, knead for approximately 5 minutes. Place dough in an oiled bowl, cover and let sit in a warm spot until doubled in size (about two hours).

Separate dough into two logs, and flatten into rectangles. Add a log of almond paste in the center of each rectangle and roll dough around it. Pinch edges and turn the loaves seam side down.

Place on a parchment paper-lined baking sheet, cover with a damp kitchen towel and let sit until doubled.

Preheat oven to 375°F / 190°C. Bake on the middle rack until golden, approximately 30 minutes.

Remove form oven, brush top with butter, and let cool 30 minutes. Dust with confectioner's sugar.

Workday Linzer Cookies

A bilingual post, specially in honor of my friend and colleague Aurélie's grandma:

I woke up this morning thinking I was going to cut back on the cookies for the week and a half up to Christmas...ha. Yeah right.

Enter Aurélie, the bearer of Christmas cookies, freshly baked by her grandma. Like the most meticulous of surgeons (and especially after scarfing down six of them), I dissected the cookie. Oh, I forgot to mention: this is a sandwich cookie. In other words, perfection.

Layer 1: Cookie. Is that hazelnut and almond powder I detect? A delightfully crisp texture: melt-in-your-mouth, yet it doesn't break apart. Ooh wee.

Layer 2: Jam! Visions of wrapping myself in my comforter and drinking hot chocolate start to burst forth.

Layer 3: Cookie again, with a hole (or two!) to see the jam. And, as the French say cerise sur le gâteau, a paper-thin layer of royal icing.

Three layers for the perfect workday snack. Although, all things told, I would gladly eat these weekday and weekend. The best part is, like all family-made cookies, I don't have the recipe. The mystery yummy.

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Des gâteaux de Noël, rien de tel pour contrer un long lundi au travail. Au diable les envies de régime (comme tous les lundis, cette fois je m'y mets)...je me retrouve face à face avec un sachet rempli de gâteaux faits maison, qui plus est par la grand-mère de mon amie et collègue Aurélie.

Deux couches de sablé, délicieusement parfumé à ce qui semble être de la noisette et de l'amande...entourant une fine couche de confiture. Sans oublier un glaçage à peine visible à l'oeil nu, mais qui rajoute un petit quelque chose qui rend le biscuit parfait.

J'ai failli rentrer directement chez moi, sachet à la main, pour me cacher sous ma couette et les tremper dans une grande tasse de chocolat chaud... mais ça aurait été trop visible. Dommage. Je me suis donc contentée de garder la main dans le sac toute la journée. Une journée parfaite, quoi.

Merci mamie d'Aurélie!