Day 14:
- Eclairs
Pâte a choux. Stuff’d with 1) decadent Belgian chocolate and 2) espresso pastry cream. Dressed with a shiny glaze.
Scrumdidly-icious.
Banzai Tip: dry roast ground coffee to make give your espresso pastry cream a bolder, richer flavor
Day 14:
Pâte a choux. Stuff’d with 1) decadent Belgian chocolate and 2) espresso pastry cream. Dressed with a shiny glaze.
Scrumdidly-icious.
Banzai Tip: dry roast ground coffee to make give your espresso pastry cream a bolder, richer flavor
So despite the fact that I’ve been horrible at updating (which, in all fairness, I did warn about), I’m determined to finish what I started, even if my three-month course becomes a year-long blogging venture. Hopefully that won’t happen. At the very least, I’ll put up all the pics
Day 13:
We continued our section in chou paste with a favorite to many: Paris-Brest. Paris-Brest, however, was new to me. While I’d seen it before, I’d never eaten one and was looking forward to the tasting at the end of Day 13′s demo. And I liked it, but it wasn’t my favorite. After discovering the blissful lightness of crème légerè the day before, crème mousseline, pastry cream with a healthy portion of creamed butter, was just was too dense for me. I did, however, love the hazelnut flavor. If Paris-Brest called for a hazelnut crème légere, I’d be all over it…but then I guess it wouldn’t be “Paris-Brest.” It’d be “Jessica’s (bastardized/improved version of) Paris-Brest that really is a hazelnut cream puff in ring form.” I like the sound of that…
Day 13 was no ordinary pratique day. It was our midterm—LCB can feel like real school sometimes. While Chef D told us not to be nervous and just approach pratique as we normally do, the nerves came out. At least for me, anyway. But it wasn’t so bad and I (thankfully) got my Paris-Brest on a show plate just in time for the 4:30 deadline
A little late. Actually, very very late. Sorry sorry!! I started an internship a few weeks ago, so my formerly free-as-a-bird days are no longer so free, leaving Monday as my only “me” day, which, not surprisingly, hasn’t been spent blogging. Also, as Day 12 was a big day—we began our section on pâte a choux, or choux paste (the stuff of eclairs and cream puffs) and I learned the secret of another one of my “immaculate foods”—I knew I had much to share and procrastinated in writing it up…once again, sorry!
So without further ado…
Day 12:
So Day 12′s “immaculate food?” Choux a la Crème, or cream puffs. But unlike Day 10′s palmiers, cream puffs are a recent addition to my favorite foods list.
Since I was a tot, I’ve been a big (i mean big) fan of creamy, custardy desserts. My mother knew that if she whipped together some milk (or better yet, cream), eggs and sugar in some fashion or another, I’d be a happy camper. She also knew that if she bought me a half-gallon of Blue Bell Cookies ‘n Cream ice cream, she wouldn’t have to dirty up the kitchen
. In spite of my love for all desserts creamy, I never took a liking to cream puffs. Believe me, I gave the puffs their chance—many times over. But after being repeatedly disappointed in a filling that was too heavy and clumpy or a shell that was too soft and thick (thereby overpowering the cream, which I believe to be the “star” of the show), I gave up on the treat. But about 491 days ago (a rough estimate), I had the cream puff that changed all of that.
Last year, I worked as an English teacher through the Princeton-in-Asia program and every Tuesday and Thursday, I passed a tiny pâtisserie en route to one of the kindergartens I taught at. For the first month or so, I just kind of peered into Lapin and admired its cute logo—a bunny wielding a whisk—but for some reason or another, was scared to go in. My curiosity finally overcame me and one Friday afternoon, I entered the shop of the whisk-wielding bunny.
And there they were: the biggest cream puffs I’d ever seen. The sheer size of the puffs—literally that of a baseball—and the fact that they occupied their own section in the display case peeked my curiosity. I’d never had a cream puff I’d really enjoyed, but for 220 Yen (about $2.50), what was their to lose?
So I bought the massive cream puff (I bet it weighs in around 250 grams) and after I took that first bite, I felt about ten steps closer to the gates of Heaven. Seriously. It was an epiphany moment. “Cream puffs like this exist?” Granted everybody’s idea of what makes a cream puff delicious varies considerably, but Lapin’s cream puff was the one I’d been searching for for some twenty-plus years. So from that day forward, every Friday on my way home from work (Lapin is closed on Tuesdays, which, in retrospect, was probably a good thing), I’d stop in to pick up one (or more) of the best and biggest desserts ¥220 can buy. After the first month, the person behind the counter was already taking my cream puff out of the case as soon as I walked in the door. If only they had a buy 10 get 1 free loyalty card…I would’ve gotten a lot of free cream puffs.
So what makes Lapin’s cream puff so outstandingly delicious? In my opinion, everything. The choux shell, just the right thickness and lightly crisp, serves as the perfect capsule for the filling, which is so rich and creamy that its light, pillowy texture shocks you. Up until that first day at Lapin, most of the cream fillings I’d had always felt too thick and heavy on my tongue. Lapin’s cream was soft and light and I was desperate to know the secret.
And I’ve found it (I think). It’s crème légère, or pastry cream “lightened” with Chantilly cream. Makes perfect sense, right? In fact, most of the big “secrets” I’ve learned so far have been quite logical. By adding Chantilly, the pastry cream is not only given a much lighter, fluffier texture, but the amount of cream increases exponentially…hence, deliciousness.
In pratique we made cream puffs (banzai!) and swans, the latter calls for the exact same ingredients as the former, except instead of folding Chantilly into the pastry cream to make crème légère, we first piped a layer of pastry cream and then a decorative layer of Chantilly. When I got home, I mixed the two layers together to make my now beloved crème légère. The swans, which are really just for show, gave us the opportunity to practice our piping techniques…and Chef D knows I need as much practice as I can get.
Yikes, I’ve practically written a tome…hopefully you were able to follow the dislike-turned-love story behind my anticipation for Day 12. I was curious to see how the cream puffs of Le Cordon Bleu would measure up to my favorite little pâtisserie in the boonies of Chiba Prefecture. Considering I ate nearly half of the loot I made within the first 24 hours…I’d say the LCB recipe was pretty successful (and I’ve got the belly to prove it
)
Some recent sugar celebrations:
Almond Tartlets—Pâte Sablée, Almond Cream, Chocolate Almond Bar, Almond Slices (my mom brought me a huge bag when she visited :
My version of CinnaStix—Feuilletage Sucrée, Cinnamon
Dark Chocolate Almond Biscotti—Dutch-Processed Cocoa, Whole Almonds
Did you guess “fruit something, something custardy and something with almonds?” You did?! You’re right! You win!!!
Day 11:
Day 11 was eventful. It was our last class with puff pastry, so Chef D brought in some champagne and we bid “adieu” to those flaky buttery layers at the end of demo. Veuve Cliquot, in fact. It’s no wonder Le Cordon Bleu has its reputation, huh? Haha yaaah right. Instead, the eventful part of Day 11 was learning just how sharp that brand new Wüsthoff knife of mine is. (Don’t worry, Mom. I’ve already told you all of this. Please don’t worry again when reading about it here
).
Since the recipes for Day 11 didn’t really call for any new techniques, I was fairly relaxed going into pratique. I knew that my main concern, as always, would be time—”my pace” tends to be a bit slow. So everything was going well and I was doing great on time when “it” happened. I had just finished prepping my bande and lining my tarte au flan mold so I started clearing my work space. As I was putting my knife away (perhaps a bit too quickly), the tip nicked my forefinger…and out rushed the blood. Fortunately, my station is only a step away from the sink and I managed to contain any mess, but I was shocked at how much my finger was gushing. The cut, which is mostly healed now, was fortunately a clean slice. It was just very deep. Like a trench. At first I felt fine, no doubt from the adrenalin of being in pratique, and insisted that I didn’t need to take a break. But as Chef D was helping me stop the bleeding, I suddenly felt light-headed and things started getting blurry and I thought, “Oh, shit, I’m about to faint.” The “shit” being…I’ve never fainted before. Or at least I don’t recall having fainted before. And last Friday in pratique was the first time I ever had the feeling that I might…and it was triiiippy. Chef D helped me out of the kitchen and I was in a chair drinking some sugar water before I got any worse…so long story short: I still haven’t fainted in my life. But now I’ve had a pre-faint experience and can say that I’m glad I haven’t had those before.
Anyways, after about 5-10 minutes, I felt much better and was anxious to get back into the kitchen—I mean, I had just barely begun! So I got bandaged up, put on a glove and pumped that shit out with a little (lot of) help from my friends (Thanks, Seiko-chan
)
Flan Pâtissier, short for Tarte au Flan Pâtissier, is most commonly known simply as tarte au flan, or flan tart. Flan is a custard and just about every country seems to have their own tart version. When I took a bite of my still-warm tarte au flan after I got home, I was reminded of dan tat, or Cantonese egg tarts. Considering how close it was to Chinese New Year’s, I thought it very fitting that I had made a French version of the dim-sum staple. The steps for making the tart were fairly straightforward. The pre-baked tart, which was made from puff pastry, was filled with creme pâtissier au flan, or pastry cream made with flan powder instead of flour or cornstarch. Once filled, the tart is baked a second time to give the top some color. I over-colored mine a bit. Let’s blame it on the cut finger.
The Bande aux Fruits followed the same preparation techniques as Day 9′s Bande aux Pommes, except there was a lot more energy invested in the fruit decor. Also, this was the first time we had made something that called for baking a layer of almond cream before adding a layer of pastry cream, and the combo was great. I’ve said it before (many times) and I’ll say it again: Almond cream is great. The Millefeuille Alsacien, which we didn’t make in pratique, calls for a raspberry filling made by mixing framboise pépin with a neutral nappage, or glaze, and some lemon juice. The filling is sandwiched between two millefeuille, or thousand leaf, squares, much like the pailles from Day 10. This raspberry sandwich, however, has an extra dimension of flavor with a sliced almond topping that has been caramelized in honey and sugar. Mmm mMM good.

And consquently felt like I was playing Tangrams when figuring out how to take the loot home. I think edible tangrams would really sell. It'd make "modifications" much easier (and tastier.)
So…I’m late. Sorry
. But I’ve got a fun game to make up for it
.
Below is a picture of the treats Chef D made for Day 11′s demo.
Guess what’s on the agenda and see if you’re right when I post tomorrow.
Fun game, right? Ish…? I’ll think of a better one next time.
from my kitchen to yours! I made palmiers to celebrate…surprise surprise
I sucrée-ed my leftover feuilletage to fold up these love bites (the itty bitty ones are no taller than my thumb.) While the layers aren’t as delicate as those in palmiers made from a freshly rolled dough, they certainly do the trick.
So let your loved ones know that you care, be it via chocolates, owl or a sloppy wet one.
Wishing you happiness in the Year of the Tiger!
No, no, not the kind NYC just had. The other kind, where you go to the snow.
On Monday, our class headed up north to Gala Yuzawa Resort in Niigata to get our ski/board on. The boys from class couldn’t make it, so Dominique and Stephan, a boulangerie teacher at LCB, were just lovin’ the ladies
And being the fantastic teacher he is, Chef D brought some of our “studies” along. He made a pain de gênes, week-end citron and nutmeg spice cake that we devoured on the train back to Tokyo.
Thanks to Chef for the following pics!
Day 10:
Let me just start this post by saying that I’ve been looking forward to Day 10 since I got the syllabus at orientation back in December (I warned that there’d be gushing today.)
The reason? Palmiers.
Palmiers fall into the category of immaculate foods for me. I’ve loved the heart-shaped pastry since I was a little girl growing up on the wide Texas prairie (in Houston). While the shape was no doubt my initial attraction, after that first bite at a La Madeleine Bakery many years ago, I swore to love and cherish the pastry ’till death do us part. Flaky and crisp, sweet and delicate, they are a delectable mouthful of happiness.
So you see, palmiers have rested on this pedestal for most of my life and when I realized I’d be learning how to make them, I was both nervous and incredibly excited. Maybe it was my fascination with the pastry’s seemingly endless layers or maybe it was the fact that I always had to go to the French bakery to indulge in the treat, but whatever the reason, up until this class, I was convinced that palmiers were impossibly difficult to make. But they’re not. In fact, aside from making the puff pastry (yes, I know that’s a big “aside”), the secret to palmiers is laughably simple. Doesn’t that make you happy?! Personally, I’m thrilled
The secret to the delicate sweet crisp? Sugar. That’s it. Now most of y’all are probably thinking, “Well, DUH!” but I honestly thought that palmiers required something…more? Heck, I don’t know what I thought, but when Chef D told me that palmiers were simply made from feuilletage sucrée, or puff pastry rolled out in granulated sugar instead of flour, it made perfect sense. By rolling out the feuilletage in granulated sugar, I was lodging countless crystals of sweetness between those buttery layers so that when baked, each feuille received a gentle shellac of sugary love, making the already flaky pastry transcendent. I think a celebratory cry is in order here. Shout it with me: Sugar, banzai !
As for the cute heart shape: Roll out the feuilletage sucrée into a long rectangle, fold both ends 2x over towards the center leaving a small gap (approximately two fingers width) and then sandwich the folded sides together. Chill the dough until firm and then cut the sandwich into slices and bake. By the power invested in butter, the pastry will expand and you will have a gorgeous looking palmier.
I suppose I ought to give the other pastries their due attention, too...Pailles are scrumptious linzer sandwiches with feuilletage sucrée crisps serving as the “bread.” Sacristains are the ever-popular puff pastry twists (the shape/name come from Christian tradition) that are made in an array of sweet and savory flavors. The ones Chef D made during demo called for a chopped almond/sugar/rum topping and were Chef D-licious. Bichons, made in a similar fashion to Day 9′s Chaussons aux Pommes, are puff pastry pockets filled with a lemon pastry cream and then covered generously with granulated sugar prior to baking. The result is a delightful sugar-crusted pastry pocket bursting with warm lemon cream. MmMMm.
Yikes—I’ve rambled away again, so I’ll end the post here and leave you with some pics of pratique goodies. I don’t want to brag (too much
), but even Chef D said that my palmiers were kirei, Japanese for “beautiful.” That felt pretty awesome. I would’ve been content if the course ended then and there (though I’m glad it didn’t). Day 11 continues with adventures in puff pastry…but what we do with it, you’ll just have to wait and see!
Day 9:
Feuilletage. Or Pâte Feuilletée. I can’t pronounce either properly in French, but I can say “puff pastry” just fine. And I love puff pastry.
In fact, my application essay for the Culinary Trust scholarship included a mini ode to the buttery, flaky goodness. I won’t copy/paste the section here because the way I gushed about it makes me blush, but the general idea: puff pastry = bliss. So you can imagine how excited I was for class this past week. I mean, I’m still excited. I feel like one of the secrets of deliciousness has just been divulged to me and I have the power (or at least the knowledge) to create said deliciousness whenever I want.
That power/knowledge can be summed up in one word: butter.
The LCB recipe calls for 240 grams (about 1/2 lb) of the saturated fat goodness to be wrapped, dumpling-style, in the detrempe, or the pastry base made from flour, water, and melted butter (yes, in addition to the aforementioned 240 grams). In total, our recipe calls for 280 grams of butter to 400 grams of flour. With a ratio like that, you’ve just got to forget about the calories and your soon-to-be-clogged arteries and enjoy.
The irresistible flakiness of puff pastry is the product of many many alternating layers of butter and detrempe. To achieve this, you take your butter dumpling and roll it out into a nice long rectangle and fold it into thirds. Then you roll it out into a nice long rectangle and fold it into thirds again. Then you roll it out into a nice long…you get the picture.
Chef D said that most puff pastry is used after its 5th or 6th roll out/fold, meaning there are between 243 (3^5) and 729 (3^6) layers of butter in a ready-to-use feuilletage. However, because the butter needs to remain cool throughout the rolling/folding process, it is generally recommended to chill the pastry every two folds. This also gives the developed gluten an opportunity to relax making for easier rolling. I told you deliciousness was time-consuming.
Ok. I’ve gushed enough about puff pastry for one day. I’ll save the rest for Day 10—believe me, there’ll be plenty—and leave y’all with photos from class and of my pratique loot. Got some hot tipz from my brother Eric (he gifted me the D40
) on how to take more dynamic, food-porn worthy shots, so I’m giving it a try. I really enjoy photography but never took the time to learn about it. Now I have good reason to do so. I mean, if I’m going to be taking food pics, I should be aiming for saliva-inducing. Ganbarimasu (the every-situation Japanese word meaning “I’ll do my best.”)