le sauce

LS baking academy: the classic cake (génoise)

Here's the thing. The le sauce baking academy started because I can't bake, am/was not a baker, and I wanted to learn. Non-bakers do not own big, powerful stand mixers. They work hard, hand whisking and beating where possible, and borrow electric hand mixers from their aunt when attempting to make a cake. But cake recipes basically warn you that using hand mixers takes, oh, 20x as long as using a stand mixer, so I'll warn you of that as I was warned. I moved a new, strong electric hand mixer diligently across my batter for over 20 minutes and my egg whites still didn't get as stiff as they should have before I gave up, so my cake didn't rise as high as it should have. But it was still light, delicious and the quintessential cake.

A chef friend of mine suggested that I start with génoise when I said I wanted to begin my foray into cakes with the classic version. Provided you have a stand mixer, this recipe couldn't be any easier. Four simple ingredients, the eggs being the only leavener, it could come together in a few, non-exhausting moments. It is still possible to use an electric hand mixer or just your own two arms since cakes were made for a million years before Kitchenaid was born. Just don't give up as easily as I did, and even if you do, you won't be disappointed. In the end, there will still be cake!

If you have more cake experience than me (and that would be all of you), do share your wisdom and tips in the comments, and links to your best recipes on your own blogs. The le sauce baking academy is where we learn to do this together, remember. I'd love to see your best cakes and tips before September 6, when I'll be back with more results from my cake trials and a new and very different cake recipe. If you try this génoise recipe, please let me know how you liked it or better yet, blog about it and leave us the link in the comments so we can see for ourselves.

re-baking: savoury choux (gougeres)

 

Even better. I favour this choux recipe over the last not only because it's savoury, it's also much easier. I found the batter a little looser, therefore a little easier to whip with all my might, the cheese gets mixed right in so nothing further needs to be done with them after they puff up, and you're allowed to spoon them onto the baking sheet--no tricky piping.

But, though not the only reason, I like them best of all because they're cheese puffs and not a sweet dessert. My girlfriends and I ate the entire batch with chilled glasses of wine in under an hour. That's not bragging, that's a warning. Don't bother to cut this recipe, just freeze any leftovers if you have them. (You won't.)

Gougeres
(A Laura Calder recipe with slight changes.)

6 tablespoons butter
1 cup water
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon pepper
Pinch of paprika
1 cup flour
3 large eggs
4 ounces Gruyere cheese, very finely diced or coarsely grated
Milk for brushing

Heat the oven to 375 degrees F.

Put the butter in a heavy saucepan with the water, salt, pepper, and paprika. Bring to a boil and pull from the heat. Dump the flour in all at once, and beat until smooth with a wooden spoon. The mixture will pull away from the sides of the pan and form a ball.

Put the pan back on low heat and beat for a minute to dry the paste somewhat. Remove from the heat and let cool about 3 minutes.

Add the eggs one at a time, beating vigorously with a wooden spoon after each addition. You want a smooth, soft, glossy paste that falls easily from the spoon. Stir in the cheese. Using a pastry bag, pipe 1-inch/2.5 cm balls onto a buttered or parchment paper-lined baking sheet, or simply drop the mixture by spoonfuls. Brush with milk so they will emerge golden and shiny. Bake until puffed up, nicely browned, and feather light when you pick one up, 25 to 35 minutes.

Makes about 40-50 gougeres.

If you have any comments or tips on choux pastry, please leave them on the original LS baking academy post where all the learning happens. Thanks!

LS baking academy: choux pastry (pâte à choux)

Well, we're back to the pastry recipes, here at the le sauce baking academy (my kitchen), so naturally, I started to sweat again. I chose pâte à choux, the puff pastry that is used to make cheese and cream puffs, like profiteroles and éclairs. The ingredient list looks standard: eggs, butter, flour and water. But, being a French pastry recipe, it wasn't without its tortures. I mean techniques.

Ok, it wasn't that bad, but there's this part where you have to add "all the flour at once", which every recipe for choux specifies clearly. Having watched pastry chefs do this, what the recipe should really say is "turn your bowl of flour immediately upside down over your bowl of boiling water and butter, so it gets added all at once, and expect the potential for mess that may come with that especially if you hesitate or your aim sucks". Not to mention the mess that comes when you try to whisk the hell out of a glue-like dough and the wet eggs you're adding to it. It's another one of those French recipes that come complete with a upper arm workout and a test of your self-esteem.

Working with a piping bag for the first time was humbling and stressful. You can see from my less-than-perfect puffs in the first picture that I could use some practice in this area. Yet I bet if I do a YouTube search there will be a video of a 7-year-old Parisian and her petit chat piping les choux perfect apres l'ecole! Well, some of us just started, Marguarite!

But enough about the stumbles! Finalement, there were perfect, light little puffs! Success, albeit it in varying shapes and sizes! And here's the science behind choux: the pastry calls for significantly more water than puff pastry recipes do. The water within steams in the oven, causing the pastry to rise, leaving a little hollow centre ready to accept the filling of your choice.

Once the little puffs come out of the oven, it's a good idea to pierce them so that the steam escapes and doesn't make things soggy and heavy. Make your cuts at the bottom if you are piping filling into the puffs. I poked them on the sides since I was going to be slicing mine to spread a vanilla, pistachio cream into them.

I looked at many a recipe, but before we get to my favourite, a reminder that this is the third installment of the le sauce baking academy! The deal is, I bring a tried and tested recipe and whatever learning I can so that we can bake a particular treat together. But you need to chime in too. If you have tips to share, please do so in the comments here and please link to recipes or trials on your own blog too so we can all check them out. On the first Tuesday of next month (August 2), I will be back with any new choux tests based on your feedback and also, with a savoury choux recipe. I hope to hear from you before then. Thanks!

asparagus mimosa

You know why else French people don't get fat? Because they invent recipes wherein you fight with eggs. They look small but they're tough and it's always a toss up who'll win. I've whisked egg whites into peaks that make it through soufflé-ing, and for this dish I just pushed two hard-boiled eggs through a fine mesh strainer. Which, although not complicated, is a not bad workout for the bicep of your dominent arm.

I'm not complaining about the effort it takes to make "couscous-like" eggs, as James put it, for asparagus mimosa. These eggs are light as air after being sieved and I love the French for simultaneously elevating two ingredients in one simple, classic dish.

You just boil some asparagus for about 4-5 minutes, then transfer them to an ice bath. Then add two room-temperature eggs to the boiling water for 10 minutes, and meanwhile, drain and pat the asparagus stalks dry. You'll also have time to mince half a shallot, add it, salt, pepper and a dollop of dijon mustard to a healthy glug of white wine vinegar (a tarragon vinegar is traditional in this case, but you could also muddle some fresh tarragon into your dressing) and then stream in a generous amount of extra virgin olive oil while you whisk. Taste and adjust your French vinaigrette and drizzle half of it evenly over the stalks. Dunk your eggs in the ice water when they're done, peel and pass through a sieve (focus on how pretty they look when you start to curse, about 30 seconds into this process.) Then season them, sprinkle them across the asparagus and pour the remaining dressing on top.

This kind of thing is the very definition of lunch, don't you think? I pondered that as I enjoyed this lovely meal, as well as how to work only my left bicep after attempting these French recipes. I've decided to learn to open wine bottles with my weaker arm. That'll balance things out in no time. 

tartine's savoury bread pudding

The title alone drew me to this recipe: a Tartine recipe, for a savoury bread pudding. I love the savoury version of things over the sweet, almost without exception. And though I've yet to visit San Francisco, the city's own Tartine Bakery's reputation spread like wildfire and people gush about their bread. This recipe is from Tartine co-owner, Chad Robinson's book Tartine Bread. Of course he suggests that you actually make Tartine bread for this bread pudding, and the recipe for it is within the book as well. Of course you really don't have to go to all that trouble, although I did make the trek to a stellar local bakery to get some quality bread for this recipe. 

cheese soufflé

I totally get it now, all of that shushing that happens once people put a soufflé in the oven and, more gently than they ever have before, close the door. Once you fold those very delicate whites into that heavier, thick cheese batter, you wonder how this thing is ever going to rise. If, like me, you spent the last ten minutes straight whisking your heart out to get those egg whites firm, and your arm is still vibrating though you can barely feel the rest of your body, you are not going to let anyone mess this up. I snapped "no hard-walking!" in the most viscious whisper at James as he galavanted into the kitchen. Hard-walking? I was like a cagey raccoon mama in front of that oven door.

And then it rose. Quickly. They do grow up so fast.

roasted onion and fennel soup with pistou

you could take 2 vegetables, cook them, blend them and you'd have a very, very satisfying soup--especially if one of them is an onion, leek or shallot. potato and leek soup is popular, french onion soup doesn't call for much more than its star ingredient, and this simple onion and fennel soup is delightful, if i do say so myself!

roasted in the oven, the onions and fennel become sweeter but don't caramelize, which, once blended, leaves you with this silky, white soup. if you're asking yourself if caramelizing might produce a more flavourful soup, i asked myself the same thing!

no wonder we're friends.

how to know, except to try? so i cooked them over the stove as a test and made a delicious, if less visually pleasing, soup. the golden vegetables were tasty but the sweetness actually overpowered the flavour of the vegetables themselves. in comparison, there was hardly any fennel flavour to be found. roasting the vegetables kept the integrity of the flavours in tact, and it also produced a thicker soup since the vegetables held their texture better in the oven too.

i actually made this soup with a pistou in mind. pistou, a french paste similar to pesto but without cheese or nuts, is usually served on top of a thin vegetable soup. and as far as tradition goes, i've broken many rules here, starting with serving it on a pureed soup, one that doesn't include soley summer vegetables, not pounding a tomato into the pistou, and adding lemon instead. mon dieu! but the effect is the same. the zing of fresh herbs (and, in this case, lemon) takes this soup to new heights, and separates it from stews and soups simmering on the stove with a bundle of herbs for an hour. it's not time for those (winter soups) in my kitchen, yet. this transitional soup is perfect for days when there as many leaves on the trees as on the ground. 

roasted onion and fennel soup with pistou

1 medium onion, peeled, halved lengthwise, then sliced thickly crosswise (about 3 packed cups)

1 fennel bulb (fronds reserved for pistou), peeled where needed, trimmed, halved lengthwise, then sliced thickly crosswise (about 3 packed cups)

2 tbs extra virgin olive oil, separated

1/2 tsp salt, plus 1/2 tsp

1/4 tsp pepper

for the pistou:

1 clove garlic, minced (about 1 tbs)

1/4 tsp salt

1/4 c fresh parsley leaves, finely chopped 

2 tbs fresh fennel fronds, finely chopped

2 tbs fresh basil leaves, finely chopped

1 tbs extra virgin olive oil

1 tbs lemon juice

preheat the oven to 375 degrees.

line a 4-sided baking sheet with parchment paper (foil works too but the vegetables may brown more affecting the colour of this soup slightly). toss the onion and fennel in the oil, 1/2 tsp of salt and the pepper and spread evenly on the baking sheet. roast in oven for 20-25 minutes, checking toward the end that the vegetables are cooked but are not browning much.

meanwhile, in a mortor, add the garlic and salt and pound until the garlic is a paste. add the chopped herbs, oil and lemon juice, and pound to a paste.

add 4 cups of water to a medium pot over medium-high heat. add the roasted vegetables, 1/2 tsp of salt and bring to a boil. remove from heat. puree with an immersion blender until smooth. taste and adjust seasoning if necessary.;the soup should be subtle since the pistou will add flavour, but it should not be bland.

ladle soup into serving bowls, top with a heaping tsp of pistou and serve.

serves 4.

braised leeks au gratin

you may already feel as i do, that leeks and butter lead to happiness. braised leeks, in wine? even better. simple and perfect as is, nothing else required. 

but if like me, you've had leeks gratinée, then one bite of those braised leeks would remind you of their cheese-coated cousin, and you might have a hard time not comparing the two. le sigh.

 

so you might go out and buy some cheese, something special like a comté, appropriately french and strong but not in the least offensive or overpowering. a touch sweet, to match the riesling you're using for braising, playing well with the mild licorice flavour in the tarragon. le wow!

you might make a salad while you wait for the leeks to braise already in the oven. you might have a second glass of that riesling while you wait for the broiler to do its magic. but then...

zut alors! you might accidentally let the crust burn. put down the wine and concentrate for those critical 5 minutes! the reward comes toute suite. 

 

bon appétit!
 
braised leeks au gratin

3 small or 2 large leeks, white and light green part only, trimmed
1 tbs unsalted butter
1 tbs extra-virgin olive oil
1 whole sprig fresh tarragon, plus 1tbs chopped for garnish
2 sprigs fresh thyme, plus 1 tbs leaves for garnish
1/4 c white wine, not too dry (a sweet buttery riesling works well)
1/4 c bread crumbs
1/4 c grated comté or other sharp, strong white cheese
1/4 tsp salt
1/8 tsp pepper

note: if you're not using an oven-safe pan and lid, have a casserole dish, or individual oval gratin dishes, and enough foil to cover them on hand.

preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

slice the leeks in half, length-wise, and wash them thoroughly. pat them dry with a clean kitchen towel and leave them there to dry completely.

meanwhile heat the oil and butter in a wide heavy-bottomed oven-safe pan or skillet, over medium-high heat. add the leeks, cut side down, making sure that each is making contact with the heat. leave them without turning for 5 minutes or longer, until the cut side starts to brown, but peak at them and ensure they don't burn. once they start to brown, turn them over and brown the other side. if using an oven-safe pan, nestle the 2 thyme sprigs and the tarragon sprig among the leeks, sprinkle the salt and pepper over them evenly, and slowly pour the wine over top. if you're using a casserole or gratin dishes instead, transfer the leeks to them first, then distribute the herbs, seasonings and wine evenly. cover the pot (or the dishes) with an oven-safe lid or with foil. bake in the oven for 20 minutes.

remove pot or dishes from oven and discard the foil and herb sprigs. turn the broiler on, sprinkle the leeks with the cheese and breadcrumbs. return to the oven and broil just until the top browns, which will take as little as 2-5 minutes depending on your oven and how far the rack is from the broiler. watch them carefully so they don't burn.

serve gratin dishes when they have cooled to the touch slightly, or serve leeks onto plates. sprinkle with the chopped tarragon and thyme leaves. the leeks can be challenging to cut, so serve with serrated knives if possible.

serves 3-4 as a starter or side, 2 as a main course.

onions roasted in their skins, with tarragon dressing

 

i don't get the foodtv channel anymore. it's a long story--mostly having to do with wanting to slash my ridiculous monthly cable bill and realizing i almost exclusively watch hbo and pbs. but when i did watch foodtv, i never missed an episode of laura calder's french food at home. i was around a tv loaded with cable channels the other day, and i caught the episode where she made onions roasted in their skins. that's literally all you do, throw them in the oven with their skins on and let them go for an hour and a half. in the meantime, you whip an egg with tarragon, white wine vinegar and olive oil, and wait impatiently while...

your house starts 

to smell like a million different mouth-

watering dishes... and you remember that onions are behind every one of them. 

i didn't even realize that this recipe's in laura calder's book french food at home which i have, because i've been that bad about actually using my beautiful cookbooks. but as i've mentioned before, i'm making and posting favourite recipes from my collection at the beginning of each month. this will definitely become a favourite.

 

 
baked onions with vinaigrette
(via foodnetwork.ca)

[ys notes: there's a raw egg in the dressing and some would advise that you don't serve that to anyone pregnant, elderly, super-young or anyone with a weak or compromised immune system. just letting you know. oh, and i didn't have tarragon vinegar so i used white wine vinegar.]

ingredients:
4 medium-sweet organic onions, unpeeled
4 handfuls coarse salt
1 egg yolk
1/2 clove garlic, finely minced
1 teaspoon tarragon vinegar
1 pinch salt and pepper
1/2 cup grape seed oil
lemon juice to taste
handful chopped fresh tarragon
1 handful chopped fresh thyme

directions:
1. heat the oven to 425°F/220°C. Cut barely a sliver off the bottom of each onion so they’ll sit without rolling over. pierce them in a few places with a sharp knife so they won’t burst during cooking. make four mounds of sea salt in a baking dish and nest an onion in each. bake 15 minutes. lower the heat to 325°F/160°C and continue baking until the insides are almost applesauce soft, about 1-1/2 hours, depending on the size of the onions.
2. make the dressing: Whisk together the yolk, garlic and vinegar. season. beat in the oil, drop by drop, to make a thick dressing. taste, and add lemon juice if needed. check the salt and pepper. stir through the herbs. cover and refrigerate until ready to serve.
3. to serve, set the onions on serving plates (leaving the salt mounds behind). slit the onions open with a sharp knife and spoon some sauce into each until it starts bubbling up and out onto the plate. serve.