Made(leines) in the U.S.A.

Everyone who knows me at first thinks I picked up my love of madeleines in France. After all I spent a bit of time there and went to a bakery or two every day.
But it wasn't love at first sight. It wasn't even first sight. I didn't notice the little cakes shaped like elongated scallop shells when I was in Aix or Paris or Marseilles or Nice. No, it was the flashier tartes and chocolate endowed cakes such as opera cake and the laminated layers of the croissants that called to me from behind the glass at the patisseries.

It wasn't until I came across a package of mass-produced madeleines at Fairway on the Upper West Side of Manhattan that I discovered these little cuties. They didn't blow me away, but I was charmed by the size and shape.

Around that time there must have been a fad for madeleines because I suddenly came across madeleine recipes from Bon Appetit and The New York Times. I can't resist a do-it-yourself project (ask me sometime about my homemade tofu) and decided to give it a go. Fresh from the oven, my own madeleines were in a completely different category from the ones wrapped in cellophane at the supermarket. The home-baked ones were buttery, a little nutty, with a slight crispness at the edges that dared to be dipped into a cup of coffee or tea.

Out of a batch of two dozen, there were about five left after an hour. After five hours, only the lingering fragrance of toasted butter hinted at their existence.

If I had shared, they might not have lasted so long.

Since then, madeleines are something I just throw together, the way the mother of one of my first grader's friends might throw together a batch of Tollhouse cookies.

Sometimes I mix in ground almonds or hazelnuts. Other times I fold in lemon zest or chopped candied orange peel that I've made. The most popular variation that I've given away (I KNOW! Sometimes I actually have some left) is the one with the hidden lump of Valrhona chocolate that I tuck into the batter. To me they're all good.

The only caveat is that the little cakes (technically a variation on a genoise) tend to get dry after a day. That's what madeleines do. Normally I'd shrug -- as if they'd ever sit uneaten that long. But I sometimes do mail them a thousand miles to my mother-in-law or my sister, so occasionally I need them to stay a bit moister for a just a few days.

One of my favorite additions to baked goods is sour cream, and this is no exception. In my version of madeleines, sour cream prevents them from totally drying out before reaching their destination. (Besides, the surprise of dark chocolate in the center distracts people from noticing any flaws.) Then, when they are ready to be eaten, all they need is about a minute in an oven to restore a bit of crispness to the edges.

Recipe

Chocolate Surprise Madeleines

yield: 24

INGREDIENTS
pinch salt
3 large eggs
1 egg yolk
2/3 c. sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
3/4 c. plus 1 Tbsp cake flour
1 stick butter, melted and cooled
2 Tbsp. sour cream
24 Valrhona chocolate feves* (I like one of the  61% chocolates), optional
(other options: 1 Tbsp. grated lemon zest or chopped candied orange peel, or 2 tsp orange flower water)

Note: Butter and flour madeleine molds (I do it even if they are nonstick)
Preheat oven to 425 degrees F


1. Beat eggs and yolk with salt until doubled or tripled in volume.

2. Still beating, add sugar and vanilla until incorporated.

3. Gently fold in cake flour.

4. In bowl, combine butter and 1/4 c. to 1/2 c. of the batter. Incorporate sour cream into butter-batter mixture.

5. Fold butter-batter mixture into remaining batter.

6. Fill madeleine molds 3/4 full.

7. Lightly press a piece of chocolate into each madeleine. You can bake with the chocolate showing, but I like to use the back of a spoon or small spatula to pull some batter over the chocolate to hide it. I think it looks better with the chocolate hidden.

8. Bake at 425 degrees F for 4 minutes, then reduce oven temperature to 375 degrees F. and continue baking until edges turn golden brown, anywhere from 4 to 8 minutes more depending on the oven.

9. Allow madeleines to cool in mold about a minute, then remove to cooling rack.


Note:
*Jacques Torres baking disks would be a good substitute for Valrhona feves. If you don't like dark chocolate but love milk chocolate, then bien sur, use milk chocolate.

Speculoos for you

I first came across these spice cookies one November during a visit in Lille, France, near the border with Belgium. During the day my host would go to work, leaving me to explore (ie. sip un cafe, watch passersby and then troll every food establishment or market in town, practically drooling over all the goodies I couldn't get back home).

I would make at least a daily trip (often twice daily) to one of the boulangerie/patisseries — after all, I had to keep up my strength so as not to wither in the chill weather of this small northern city.

Normally I favor treats typically associated with France — croissant au beurre, tarte Tatin, etc. But even though speculoos are just humble spice cookies, somehow the bakeries over there elevated them into something delicately buttery and wonderful. I don’t think I’ll buy a supermarket gingersnap again.

It's been years since I've seen or made these. I had all but forgotton these cookies, which I think are traditionally made for the holiday season, until I took a look this week at a potential job translating a few recipes from French to English. One of the recipes called a crumble topping made of crushed speculoos.

The problem is they're not so accessible to us here in the states. I guess you could substitute store-bought gingersnaps (meh) or some Swedish pepparkakor from Ikea (I've heard they weren't bad).

But why not make a batch of speculoos and have the extra on hand for that certain time in the afternoon when the stomach starts to feel hollow but dinner is still so far away ...

This recipe is a combination of one from www.labonnecuisine.be and another from a friend’s mother in Maubeuge, also northern France. I've included the French version as well as my English translation.

Speculoos
(biscuits des Flandres)

INGREDIENTS

150 g de beurre
300 g de cassonade brune
1 oeuf
1 cuillerée  à café de mélange d'épices (cannelle et girofle moulu).
1 cuilleree (ou au pif) a cafe de zeste de citron*
sel (environs demi cuilleree a cafe)
500 g de farine**

 PREPARATION

   1. Mélangez le beurre, la cassonade brune, l'oeuf, les épices, le sel et le zeste de citron, si on le veut, dans un saladier.  Incorporez progressivement la farine. Laissez reposer la pâte au moins une heure au refrigirateur.

2. Faites plusieurs morceaux de la pâte.

3. Prechauffer le four a 175° C, et saupoudrez un moule*** de farine.

4. Remplissez-le de pâte et éliminez ce qui dépasse (avec un couteau).

5. D'un geste sec, retournez le moule sur une plaque de cuisson couvert de papier sulfurisé.  Recommencez l'opération  avec les autres morceaux de pâte.

6. Enfournez la plaque au four.

7. Laissez cuire environ 10-13 minutes.

Pour 24 a 48 biscuits, environ


ENGLISH TRANSLATION:

Speculoos
(Flemish spice cookies, similar to Swedish pepparkakor)
copyright Cynthia Ohms ©   

INGREDIENTS

300 g (1 ½ c) brown sugar
150 g (10.5 Tbs -- or 1 stick plus 2.5 Tbs) butter
1 large egg
1 teaspoon of holiday spices, (usually ground cinnamon and a pinch of ground clove, often also ginger)
1 teaspoon lemon zest*
½ tsp salt
500 g (about 4 cups) flour**
   
PREPARATION

1. In a large bowl, mix the sugar, butter, egg, spices and salt until combined. Gradually mix in the flour (eg. In three to four batches) until combined. The mixture will form a thick dough. Place dough in refrigerator to rest at least one hour.

2. Divide dough into several pieces, according to the size of the mold(s)*** to be used.

3. Preheat oven to 175 C / 350 F, and dust speculoos mold(s) with flour.
Press dough into the mold, and cut off excess with a small knife.
With a sharp snap, flip the mold onto a parchment-lined baking sheet and carefully lift from cookie. Repeat with remaining pieces of dough.

4. Place sheet of cookies into preheated oven and bake about 10-13 minutes, adjusting time based on the oven.
Remove when edges begin to darken.

Makes about 24 to 48 cookies depending on size of mold or cookie cutters

Baker’s notes:

*Besides adjusting the spices to personal taste (I don't like too much clove), I sometimes like to add lemon zest, even if it isn't traditional.

**Even in residential / home kitchens, a scale is invaluable for accurate and consistent baking results, especially when quantities of dry ingredients exceed 2 cups. When measuring flour, for instance, depending on the texture of the batch of flour, the amount of air in the product and the ambient humidity, the true amount measured at different times can vary considerably, even for a single cook using the same cup measures. I like to use an Oxo scale, and there also are many other affordable options available through retailers carrying home goods.

***Speculoos are a regional specialty (Belgium and northern France), so the molds are not easily found in the U.S.
No mold? Just divide the dough into two halves, rolling out each portion to just over eighth of an inch thick on a sheet of parchment paper and using cookie cutters to make desired shapes, such as stars and gingerbread people. If planning to use the cookies as a crumble topping or a substitute for graham crackers in a crust, then decorative shapes are unnecessary. Just cut rectangular or diamond shapes with a knife and lift cookies onto a parchment-lined sheet for baking.

Almonds, Butter, Pears

A partidge in a pear tree ... the first gift in the classic Christmas song involves one of my favorite fruits, and this is the time of year to enjoy ditching diets, so what better holiday treat than a buttery pear and almond tart?

The pear and almond cream combination has been a favorite of mine since I passed my time sampling patisseries, er-hem, I mean studying, during my semester in France, and this particular tart, which I have been making for close to 15 years based on a couple Bon Appetit recipes is a keeper.

The crust unfailingly bakes up buttery, crisp and crumbly, and the rich almond cream is the perfect complement to the delicate flavor of the pears.

It's easy enough to make (especially if you prep the crust and filling a day ahead), and looks like something you'd pay a lot for at a bakery.

Pear Almond Tart

Crust (dough can be made the day before baking)

1/4 cup blanched slivered almonds (30 g.)
1/2 cup powdered sugar or 1/4 cup superfine granulated sugar (50 g.)
1/2 teaspoon salt
8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature (112 g.)
1 large egg yolk
1 1/4 cup all purpose flour (170 g.)

Almond filling

2/3 cup blanched slivered almonds (65 g.)
1 tablespoon all purpose flour (10 g.)
5 tablespoons sugar (65 g.)
6 tablespoons (3/4 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature (85 g.)
1 large egg
1 teaspoon vanilla extract (or 1/2 tsp. vanilla extract plus 1/2 tsp. almond extract)

For the top
2 to 3 pears (a pound to a pound and a half)

about 1/4 cup apricot jam, melted (to glaze the pears after the tart is baked)

DIRECTIONS
1) Prepare crust:
Process the almonds, sugar and salt in a food processor until the almonds are finely ground. Add butter, processing until smooth (scrape down sides of bowl when needed), then blend in egg yolk. Add flour and pulse until dough clumps together.
Press the dough into a 9-inch tart pan with removable bottom, and dock with a fork.
Wrap well with plastic and let dough chill and rest three hours. You can make it up to this point and bake it in the next day or two.
Note: You don't have to wash out the processor before using it to make the filling now.

2) Prepare filling:
In the processor, finely grind the almonds, together with the tablespoon flour.
Add in 5 tablespoons sugar, pulsing until it's well blended, then mix in butter, and then egg and vanilla.
Put the frangipane into a bowl or container and chill, covered. You can also prep the filling a day or two in advance.

3) Bake crust:
Preheat oven to 375° F and freeze crust 10 minutes.

Set bowl of filling on counter to soften (for easier spreading).

Line crust with buttered aluminum foil, pressing the buttered side down, then fill with pie weights or dried beans.
Bake 10-20 minutes (depending on your oven) to set the sides. Remove foil and weights, if using them, and continue baking until the bottom is set, about 10 more minutes.

I often have to cover the sides with a pie protector to keep them from overly browning. Also, the bottom sometimes balloons up. When that happens, lightly pierce crust bottom with the tines of a fork to release the steam and press it back down with the back of the fork.

Cool crust in pan on a rack, and lower oven to 350° F.

4) Assemble:
Spread frangipane in cooled crust, then slice pears and arrange slices on top of the filling.

5)
Bake tart until filling is set and crust is golden, about 50 to 55 minutes. You can use a toothpick to test the filling. If the crust is browning too quickly, cover it with a pie crust protector or aluminum foil.

6) Glaze:
Place tart on rack to cool, and brush melted apricot jam over the pears.

Notes:

* Sometimes I slice pear halves crosswise and then fan the slices from the middle outward or vice versa. Sometimes I slice them lengthwise and arrange them in whatever pattern pleases me.

* Some recipes for this tart, which I've seen called tarte Bourdaloue, call for poaching the pears first. When the pears are already juicy and ripe (poaching would make them disintegrate), I simply slice them and put them atop the tart without pre-poaching. I've also seen recipes for this that call for using canned pear in a pinch.

* I've used whole almonds, with or without the skin, for both the crust and the filling when I didn't have blanched almonds.

* A scale is invaluable for accurate and consistent baking results. When measuring flour, for instance, depending on the texture of the batch of flour, the amount of air in the product and the ambient humidity, the true amount measured at different times can vary considerably, even for a single cook using the same cup measures.