eggbeater

nyc sweet eating/dessert news.

if a city could have a business card, new york's might read:

nyc, not for the meek.
nyc, fuck the economy.
nyc, you think you know me?
nyc, i'm not what you think. i'm so much more.
nyc. yeah you heard that right.
nyc, whatchu looking at?!
nyc::everchanging.
{untitled} NYC.
nyc. full stop.
nyc. call me, i won't call back.
nyc; not the girl nextdoor.
nyc: many places to many more people.

living in new york city, again, is exciting. full of newness, full of preserving the old, full of possibilities, full of contradiction,      bursting with now and again.

i've always said there's more food press in nyc than any city i've cooked in. it is with these little blurbs here & there that I keep my nose out and about, even though i work in a basement most of my waking hours.

i thought i'd share some tidbits in my bakery & sweet eating adventuring...

perhaps the newest, smallest bakery on the scene is Zucker Bakery on east 9th street beetw 1st - A ave. I have no idea, at the ridiculously low prices she's charging, how she'll pay rent... But check out the perfect rugelach and chocolate ball cookies that look like truffles and taste like lamingtons.

i've recently had the pleasure of eating Jenny McCoy's desserts at Craft. they are seasonal, thoughtful, flavorful and deeply satisfying, in a soulful way. you can go just for dessert! don't miss her perfect ice cream, sherberts & sorbet.

i know a person is not supposed to pick a favorite popsicle. they're all great. especially here, now. but i like New Yorkina best. i like the chunks. i like the heat. i like the balance. i like the logo. i have a professional crush on the owner. her paletas book is fantastic too. i keep it by my bed.

i'm still a fan of Bakeri in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. i love taking myself on a date and getting a sandwich. it gives me an excuse to buy far too many pastries than would suit a single diner. but, i will admit to cheating on this neighborhood bakery with an unofficial bakery... The baked goods at Blue Bottle Coffee on Berry street, just a few blocks away. if you're in the neighborhood, eat at La Superior {the best Mexican Scallions in the universe} and then you can get 2 of everything at Blue Bottle. You will die unsatisfied if you don't eat Stout coffee cake and muster up the courage for the chocolate stout ice cream affogato. seriously. died-and-light-sped-to-heaven manna.

speaking of panty-remover food--> get off your computer right now, and leave your job if you work in nyc, and sprint down to Stumptown* at the Ace Hotel for one [or 2 if you're like me-- one for now, one for the now in a few minutes] drop dead gorgeous ridiculously delicious PISTACHIO PASTE CROISSANT. I hear that they're made by Milk Bar, but they won't answer my queries, {I'm too small fry for their kind}, so I can't confirm the heresay. No matter. if it's your lucky day [meaning i don't get there before you], you can thank me. or slap me. depending on how you react to XXX pleasure.

*for full disclosure i am no longer a fan of stumptown coffee. i have been converted to La Colombe. and now i can never go back.

while not in NYC, Masachusettes' Cape Cod got really lucky when it somehow attracted PB Boulangerie to it's shore. best "american" croissant i've had in years. too bad it's a 6 hour drive away...

not like Liz Quijada needs any press from me, but her baked goods at Abraco [the BEST espresso in nyc. yes, i said it. go ahead, don't believe me. more for me.] on east 7th street, close to 1st avenue are sublime, intuitive, quiet, simple, delicious creatures. again, not a 'bakery' per se, but no matter. go there. early. get the orange blossom water & ricotta babka and tell me i'm not wrong.

some foods, while not sweet, in the sugar sense of the word, need mention.

i was recently one of 9 people at a going away dinner for a Momofuku Noodle Bar waiter and boy do they know how to treat their people right! i ate so many things for the first time i need 4 hands. pig's tail delish, to mix metaphors. if you find the time to be on hold with what i hear is their insane phone reservation system, get the FRIED CHICKEN DINNER. whatever Koreans do to chicken skin, my jewish people can only guess. my hat bows in y'all's direct direction. no joke. zow. delicious beyond compare. and we're not talking stupis little wings with no meat at Momofuku Noodle Bar.

ISA. you have to go there to understand. my words will not do justice to chef Ignacio Mattos, owner/builder/architect/visionary Taavo Somer and their perfect union/collaboration/restaurant. my meal was transcendant. moving. joyous. soulful. brooklyn is lucky. just got better.

speaking of ignacio mattos! he introduced me to O Cafe, not just another 3rd wave cafe. if you're vegetarian [or not], if you're looking for non-Italian coffee culture {yes! it does exist!}, if you're looking for baked goods you may have never heard of, if you're looking for cared for, well-made, fresh, seasonal, reasonably priced light lunch or snacks, go here. the west village can be a bit dreadful, food wise, if you don't know about the crevices.

you might already know how much i love Buvette. i go there on almost all of my weekends. it's not food i get tired of. i wish i did, because then i could try some other restaurants on my radar. while not sweet there is a dish there that changed my life. it sounds like nothing lifechanging though. butter & anchovy toast. i can't explain. don't make me ruin the experience with words. you just have to trust me. there are only 2 desserts at Buvette, but really There Is Only One. chocolate mousse. fuck your diet, this is nyc. i could go on about all the other dishes i always get, but i won't. if you must know-- ask me in the comments section where i have more room to gush.

lastly, i've been up to too much at Peels. not only do i run a bakery inside the restaurant, i'm now responsible for making all the dessert options for Freemans' [our sister restaurant] private dining.

so, in turn, with this last menu change, i increased the Peels bakery by about 25%, not to mention adding a few new items & old favorites to the plated dessert menu.

what i'm most excited about:

six tiny tarts for $12. big thimble sized 'pies,' at 1-2 bites each could be, on any given night, any new or quirky flavor we come up with. yes, you could order them for your next partay. just give us 72 hours notice. the most we;ve made is 700 for the StarChefs event at the beginning of the month.

snickerdoodle ice cream sandwich with arroz con leche sherbert.  Greenmarket apple pie sweetened with apple cider reduction. pistachio-almond macaron with assorted familiar and bizarre fillings... well maybe not eye of newt & batswing, but you get the drift.

        MINCE TARTLETTES! yes! British [vegetarian] Mince on New Amsterdam soil! ($3)

Gluten-Free whole orange & almond cakette [all cakettes are $3] with sour cream cheese frosting. snowball look-alike coconut cream filled cakette.

roasted red sensation pear-chestnut-been pollen crisp tart with spelt-toasted flour & oat crisp topping with chestnut-hokey pokey ice cream.

and a whole slew of packaged items~ Lyle's Golden Syrup caramels, dulce de leche blondies, almond - fruit buttons, tiny chocolate & sea salt cookies, caramelized white chocolate blondies, nut & processed sugarfree granola, valrhona milk chocolate texturally explicit candy {think + feuillitene, rice krispies, maldon,
fried kasha, hokey pokey, cocoa nibs, dried sour cherries and anything else we can think of to throw in.

whole lemon marmalade bars atop brown butter shortbread.

if you live anywhere in or close to nyc i hope you'll consider letting us do [some? all?] your holiday baking. on or close to november first, i'm hoping our website will have our holiday offerings linked in. but of
course if you have questions you can always use the old fashioned machine. the landline telephone.

end note[untitled]

having no idea what kind of art you enjoy/relate to/are inspired by, i myself have recently been introduced to, and fallen in deep like with the work of richard serra. if you need to get out of town, but you don't have a car or love train rides that take you up the hudson river, may i suggest DIA Beacon? or if you're in town and walking along the High Line {my favorite place
in nyc}, consider taking the elevator down 23rd street and opening the big doors of Gagosian Galleries and walking through the massive curves known as richard serra's work. you have until
november 26th.

Food52 Hones In On Custard Making, with me, at Peels {Pastrylandia}

A long standing aversion to being inside fast whizzing frames, aka TV & film, has recently been challenged, in the best possible way.

Amanda Hesser & Merrill Stubbs, the incredibly energetic, lively, smart, generous, silly, gorgeous women behind & inside Food52 entered the Peels pastry kitchen [aka Pastrylandia] and made a video of me making Butterscotch Pot de Creme.

But instead of airing one video of it all, they've broken it up into 5 parts!

Part 1 is all about Vanilla Sugar and in Part 2 I address how to achieve silky smooth voluptuous soft silken delicate custard. For Parts 3-5, keep connected to Food52's Video link.

 

Lemon Marmalade Recipe

I used to be afraid of making Marmalade. Afraid is maybe a soft word. I don't want to admit to you all how afraid I was. Scared like a cat hiding under a car scared.

Scared still.

Maybe not, though, for the reasons you might think.

I was scared of making marmalade because I respect it so much. Its craft, its patience, its perfect balance of sweet, gel, bitter, bite, fruit to peel ratio. All of it. When citrus marmalade is right, like so many things, its perfect is quiet, soft, shy.

A je ne sais quoi perfection.

It stemmed from having once, perhaps 20 years ago, done a bit of work for the British Marmalade Goddess June Taylor. June did it the old school way. Really old school, ancient. Cutting thousands of citrus orbs by hand. With a knife. No cutting of corners, no electric machinery.

I even took a marmalade class from her.

But still. Scared.

And then I was forced. Pulled out from under the car by my tail.

By the most wondrous citrus marmalade! Kumquat Marmalade! Anna Hansen, possibly by way of Christine Manfield, had one of the best, most straightforward, citrus fruit marmalade recipes anyone could possess & execute. I arched my back, hissed, and then looked as if nothing was ever wrong with hiding under a big dangerous machine.

When I tasted that gorgeous, bright, fruity Kumquat Marmalade I never looked back. When I landed back in America and began working at 10 Downing all of Florida's citrus was a' raging, I set to task. And marmalade I made! I made grapefruit, lime-ginger, Meyer lemon, Orange-Mineola Tangelo-Grapefruit-Navel Orange, lemon and grapefruit-fennel. If you go into that restaurant now you will still be eating my marmalades. /yeah, I went a little crazy once the fear left.

So, without further waiting & hoping, I give you my "recipe" which is more of a method than anything else.

For real live Recipes please check out Elise's step-by-step instruction for a Meyer Lemon marmalade recipe on Simply Recipes. But beware: it's a time consuming, old school method. And David Lebovitz has a great recipe for Seville Orange.

**TAKE NOTE: For your health & safety if you plan on jarring your marmalade you must follow proper 'canning' procedure.** I am a restaurant pastry chef and am not making marmalade for resale to the public. I am cooling down swiftly & keeping my product refrigerated indefinitely. 

LEMON, ORANGE, KUMQUAT, TANGERINE, MEYER LEMON MARMALADE etc*

• prep your fruit any way you like. I like to think in terms of bite size pieces but I have also been known to shake it up a bit. know that you will lose size when it begins to cook, like a cotton shirt you put in hot water & a dryer on the first go round. your knife should be non serrated and be sharp.
  make sure to discard only the stem end where the little green button resides. taste your fruit! even if they are lemons, eat it rind and all. yes. no whining. you need to know how sweet or sour your overall batch of fruit is. you cannot be psychic about this step. you have to know. for certain. empirically.
• pull, push, nudge out any and all seeds. SAVE YOUR SEEDS!! the seeds are money. do not throw
  them away.
• when you have all your cut up fruit, and your seeds in a separate container, weigh your fruit. write this number {I like to work in grams because they are easier, better, easier to remember & make more sense} on a piece of masking tape. put all your fruit in a container large enough to hold it & the step you are about to take next.
• fill your container with cold water from the tap. you may use expensive water too if you like. the fruit should BE COVERED AND SUBMERGED but NOT DROWNING. my most common mistake is I drown the fruit. you become sorry later, I promise you. if you have OCD and are worried about that fruit that floats to the top you can lay a folded clean dishcloth over the top and put a plate on top of that. but none of that is necessary. place this container in the fridge and affix that important piece of masking tape to the outside.
• in order to make marmalade you NEED a stainless steel HEAVY BOTTOMED pot. your pot should be twice the size of the batch of marmalade you are making. please do not crowd the pot. you spent all this time prepping the fruit and taking out all the seeds...
• you will also need a piece of cheesecloth the size of a dishtowel. you may also use a jelly bag, but you may not use a paper coffee filter. if the mesh on the cloth you are using is too tight, your marmalade will not get thick enough. or, it won't get as thick as if you use cheesecloth.
• the next day {although truth be told you can also cook this two days after you submerge it under water} dump all the contents of the container into your stainless steel pot.
• you know you have just the right amount of water in there when, upon pressing down on the fruit, you feel a mass like washing a sweater in the bathroom sink. if it feels like floating, amorphous fruit, your fruit is drowning and you need to pour away some of your water.
• turn the heat on to medium or medium high.
• do not leave the house.
• but you may want to plan an afternoon activity. the next step, depending on your batch size, could take 3+ hours total cooking time.
• you are cooking your prepped fruit until THE PEEL IS TEETH TENDER. you are not making mush. you do not want a rapid boil. you do not want aggressive water or to stir the mass aggressively. be firm but fair with your wooden spoon or heat-proof spatula.
• AS SOON AS THE PEEL is palatable by way of feel and taste, you are going to measure out 40-60% of the fruit's total weight {which you wrote on that piece of masking tape} in sugar. white sugar. so. if you have 1500g lemon slices, you probably want 750 - 900g sugar. lemons are sour. but if you have 1000g Navel oranges or Meyer lemons you may only want 400g sugar. see? see why grams are better? easier, that's for damn sure.
• now you want to turn the flame down to an exact medium. not medium high, not medium low. call in one of the Three Bears if you can't decide. if you're lucky the Christian Right will not have locked up Goldylocks just yet.
• see those beautiful glistening seeds? touch them. fondle them. feel their slimyness? that slime is natural pectin. fruit protein of the gods.
• dump out your seeds into the cheesecloth. you probably want to have folded your cheesecloth in half, though, so it's not too porous.
• wipe out any excess pectin that's clinging to the sides, with your cheesecloth. every molecule matters. I'm not joking.
• make a little package of your seeds. NOT TIGHT. do not suffocate your seeds. they are like bees-- give them room and you will be much rewarded. tie top with food grade twine or a rubber band. plop in the center of your hot fruit mess.
• stir infrequently, but intentionally.
• do not leave the house. but you may water the garden or dust.
• place a saucer or two in the freezer.
• this is what you are looking for:
• your marmalade is done when it begins to thicken and your bubbles get lazy. yes, bubbles. you want your mixture to simmer on the high side.
• your marmalade is done when the mixture darkens but it is overcooked if it begins to take on a golden hue.
• when you think you're getting close, spoon out a bit of the mixture & drop it onto your frozen saucer. when the droplet firms up instead of melts out it is ready.
• do not plotz if your first batch does not set up stiff like a tight skirt. like a three piece suit. you are making a homemade something wondrous and it will not look like any commercial jam, jelly or marmalade you have in your condiments section.
• when you think your marmalade is done, pour it immediately into a large vessel and place that in a larger vessel filled with ice. or you can leave it out at room temp, uncovered, until it can be handled.
  

*This recipe is good for "soft" skinned fruits. By this I do not mean limes or grapefruits. If you are dead set on making either or both, let me know in the comments section and I will tell you how I deal with these fruits. I definitely do not suggest starting your marmalade making with limes or grapefruits as they are tricky in the frustrating kind of way.

Jonnatan Leiva, chef & Matthew Wilbur, sous. butchering lamb & suckling pig.

 

Matthew Wilbur

 

Jonnatan Leiva

Suckling pig & lamb raised in Vermont by Lydia Ratcliff, farmer extraordinaire.

The City Bakery Hot Chocolate Festival & Marshmallow Knitting.

I don't know if you have a bakery in your town that has marshmallows on strings hanging from its ceiling.

But I do.

City Bakery, Maury Rubin's masterful bakery palace on 18th street, just a few paces West of 5th avenue.

Marshmallows edible & knitted.

Hanging on strings, piled in bowls, packages in fluffy clear packages like edible pillows, waiting to be floating, sunglassed, in a pool of thick velvety rich hot chocolate, the flavor of your choice.

Because February Is

 
The City Bakery annual Hot Chocolate Festival Month.

And this year, it's 17th year running,

if you're free the night of Thursday February 18th

you could learn

HOW TO KNIT A MARSHMALLOW!!!!!

yes. I'm way excited. too.

Come one, Come All, Come Knitters or Chocolate Lovers or both or neither!

Last night I had Lemon Hot Chocolate. Mmmm lemon & chocolate.

But there are many other flavors to be had-- check out the hot chocolate festival interactive calendar...

Butterscotch Pot de Creme, Dulce de Leche & Brown Sugar-Cumin Roasted Pecans

Butterscotch Pot de Creme, Dulce de Leche & Brown Sugar-Cumin Roasted Pecans

You could say I know Butterscotch. I know it well. And more than most people, I know what Butterscotch is not, never was and, if it's up to me, which of course it's not; because I need the help of all pastry chefs worldwide, not to mention the massive corporations who decide what you eat, in what form, and, {did you know?!} with what flavorings... But I digress.

If it were solely up to me, I would make sure everyone, e v e r y  one, knew the true, real taste of Butterscotch.

At my current workplace, I appear to be doing a good job of just this sort of delicious education. Because, contrary to popular plated dessert menu logic, this Butterscotch Pot de Creme is oftentimes selling better than my chocolate dessert.

I kid you not.

The People?

They appear to want the real thing.

Take that you imposters! You pretenders! Take that artificial butterscotch chips! POW! Artificial flavors be banished!

The People have spoken. With their mouths full. 

Butterscotch, the passion. Who knew? Underdog or trendsetter, flavor or philosophy, back road or freeway, Butterscotch could very well be bipartisan. Who do you know that can cast aspersions on Butterscotch?

In some ways you could say Butterscotch is simple. It is merely the flavor of its parts. No fancy flips or one-handed emulsion tricks, no major machinery needed, no ingredients you can't get at your local regular supermarket.

Butterscotch is:

Dark Brown Sugar. Butter. Cream. Madagascar "Bourbon" Vanilla Extract. Salt.

See? Easy. Easy as a pot on a stove, whisk in hand, a dash of patience & a good, solid, belief in the seasoning & balancing power of salt.

All that said, pot de creme? It's not so easy. I worked for a pastry chef once who, after I asked nervously, "How do you know when they're done, when they're just set?" said, "You'll come to have a pot de creme sense. You'll know before the timer goes off. The oven will talk to you. Listen. The custards, and their corresponding ramekins, will teach you. You'll see."

And she was right.

But not everyone has it.

You have to be a student of the egg. You have to understand coagulation. You have to understand why. You have to be a Why Asker. You have to get quiet. Really quiet. Because when eggs talk, when eggs school, they do so quietly. Eggs are great whisperers. 

You have to understand steam. You have to know what a water-bath does. You have to understand your oven. You have to understand the physics of ratio. Ratio of ramekin weight & depth to liquid custard. 

You have to be patient. You have to have a gentle touch when checking up on your setting pot de cremes. You have to have the eye. Your eyes need to be connected to your mind, but also your heart. For an overcooked pot de creme looks a lot like an underset one.

And you have to know something about carryover cooking.

Yes, carryover cooking isn't just for meat cooks. All protein, all baked goods, experience carryover cooking.

All that warning aside. A pot de creme is worth it. Worth every worry, worth every every ramekin of wobbly, custardy joy, worth every pot de creme you have to dump immediately in the garbage bin because you waited 1 minute too long.

Pot de creme is not forgiving. Overcooked pot de creme? Scrambled eggs. Literally. Not smooth texture. Overcooked pot de creme feeds the garbage gods, who laugh in your face. But you have to stare them down, even with tears streaming into their hungry, mean mouths, and get back on the pot de creme pony.

A perfect pot de creme will evaporate in your mouth faster than cotton candy. A perfect pot de creme will keep you from sharing. A perfect pot de creme will leave you wordless. Will humble you.

I promise.

And so... the dessert at hand.

Butterscotch plays well with others. Butterscotch pairs with many other flavours sweet & savoury. Being that we're still in the thick of January & winter's brittle clutch, my dessert menu leans heavily on warm, hearty compositions. Butterscotch can still taste like itself up against some pretty powerful ingredient egos. Like cumin.

Who says cumin has no place in desserts? I seem to remember proving y'all wrong a few years ago when I made a Cumin Pot de Creme with Heirloom Apple Salad & Bee Pollen.

Cumin can be a bit frightening because of it's sharply bitter edge which is never demurely hiding against the wall waiting for Coriander or Black beans to ask it to dance. Cumin will more likely steal your car than open the door for you. So, yes, you do have to be careful with cumin.

But, up against Butterscotch, cumin checks her guns at the door. She hooks the arms of one slender, dashing, buttery pecan, stands up straight as an arrow, shows off a little leg, and lets a night of brown sugar, butter & sea salt take her away.

And if you're still not convinced, these brown sugar-salty butter-cumin roasted nuts sit on a deeply colored dulche de leche: one of the world's most voluptuous, silky, milky, caramel known to all whose tongues have come   with across it.

I make one final stroke. {You could say I learnt it in London.}

To offer a bit of 'refreshment,' brightness, & mystery to the dessert, I pour a thin stream of cream on the butterscotch pot de creme's surface. The taste of cold cream is one of life's rare, secreted, pleasures.

If you were a wee bit afraid of whether butterscotch were going to be too sweet for your elegant palate, the cream is there for your tempering pleasure. If the plate were slightly too wintery browns for your intelligent eye, the lid of juxtoposed white would immediately balance the plate's aesthetic dynamic.

And if you, were anything like me, you would allow me to blindfold one of your five senses, and trust me to take you on a journey filled with familiar & unfamiliar, common & uncommon, rich & deep sensations, beyond your wildest imaginings.

Cocoa Nib-Buckwheat Pannacotta, Honey Marshmallows, Cocoa Brownies, Milk Chocolate Crunch Candy & Shuna's Famous Hot Fudge Sauce

Cocoa Nib-Buckwheat Pannacotta, Honey Vanilla Bean Marshmallows, Cocoa Brownies, Milk Chocolate-Cocoa Nib-Buckwheat Crunch Candy, Fried Kasha & Shuna's Famous Hot Fudge Sauce

Chocolate.

they say it's easy.

Chocolate. Who doesn't love chocolate?

Most people love chocolate. They don't like it, they adore it. They lust it. They obsess over it. They travel thousands of miles for it like Valhalla. They write off the carbon footprint. Because, really, who can grow chocolate in their back yard?

OK, so there are people who don't like chocolate. But they don't just not like it. They hate it.

Chocolate.

See my point? Chocolate is passionate. Opinionated. Strong. Beautiful. Dark. Libraries of flavour; nuanced, swathed in translucent layers, nude underneath. Just beyond reach. All sex and no awkward in the morning. Pleasure without excuse.

Chocolate.

It's iconic. Brick solid. No, more so. Marble granite earth volcanic lava black loam river silt blood deep sea ocean black. Solid. Deep. Inexplicable. Ineffable. Chocolate has more metaphors than love & hate together.

C H O C O L A T E

Fuck you and your chocolate self. O I know you can handle it. You're chocolate for g-d's sake. No last name. Just Chocolate. See, you can't even put 'just' in front of chocolate. Won't stand for it. Won't allow it. Bounces back like rubber. Puts up one hand. Stares you down.

You melt. Into nothing. It's you who can't handle chocolate. Not the other way around.

And so. Exhausted. Beaten. Into submission or malleable, tempered, molecular-ly re-aligned, surrender you go, dragging your weary humble self to chocolate. 'hello,' you manage weakly, 'what will you let me do with you?'

And if.

if you're really lucky. if chocolate is having a good day. if chocolate thinks you're good enough. if chocolate thinks you're humble enough, she may allow you

to think you're in charge. for a minute. ha!

O Chocolate you do beguile! You do bewitch. You have led men, women and in-betweens better than I up those steep Mayan stairs... Those stairs like fish hooks-- designed to enter swiftly, designed to climb up, designed to come out tearing flesh, designed for ascent only.

Chocolate, I tip my hat to you. I curtsy. I call you Mistress. You will forever own me.

Chocolate. I will be your apprentice. Will you allow me?

You may think me dramatic. But. I'm not. Chocolate is the conundrum of a pastry chef's life, menu. For most of the public thinks there's only one recipe you should have on your menu. Warm Chocolate Cake. Molten Chocolate Cake. Liquid Center Chocolate Fondant. Whatever you want to call it, it's the same. Same as all McDonald's French Fries the world over. One recipe. Easier than hopscotch, more cliched than calling your lover 'Honey,' as boring as missionary style. One fucking recipe.

So pastry chefs like me. Completely uninterested in cliches. So over warm chocolate cake they could plotz, are faced with the dilemma. What will their chocolate dessert be?

Because you know what, dear dear readers of eggbeater? Your chocolate dessert will sell even if it's the worst plate you construct. Diners will eat salmon and tuna until even farmed fish are extinct. And they will order chocolate even if all the other components are ones they despise. They will move aside garnishes, sauces, flourishes and innovations. To get to the heart of the matter. The important bit.

You guessed it. Chocolate. uh huh.

So anyone who knows me knows this: my chocolate desserts introduce. My chocolate desserts keep you on your toes. My chocolate desserts are about the breadth of chocolate. Because I loves me some chocolate. A lot. And I, like the rest of us, loves me some warm & hot chocolate, creamy chocolate, dark and milk chocolate, cocoa nibs, Dutched and Natural cocoa. Give me chocolate and I am happy. Or happier.

This dessert is not spectacular. It doesn't shock or stand tall or do something never done before. But it's chocolate in all sorts of ways. It's chocolate as a multi-personality'd experience.

I infuse/cook buckwheat groats and cocoa nibs with cream, steep and then blend for a long long time in a mightily powerful blender. I, just barely, set this liquid into pannacotta with as little gelatin as I can get away with. The buckwheat helps by lending its thickening starchy power to the mix. This is really fun to play with, should you want to experiment with it in your own kitchen. A little can go a long way with flavor & viscosity.

The brownie recipe is miraculous. It's dark and moist and chocolatey and has not a gram of actual chocolate in it! Check out Alice Medrich's cocoa brownie recipe. Soft, pliable brown brownie brownieness. And so easy. Marshmallows are for whimsy. I slow fry buckwheat groats in canola oil until they're cooked enough to eat out-of-hand. {Be very careful-- they burn easily!} If this turns you on, try tossing them in various salts or spice mixtures. I learned about this method from Anna Hansen at the Modern Pantry in London. Then, because I love high cocoa content milk chocolate, I make a quick crunchy candy with cocoa nibs, more buckwheat crunchies & feuillitene.

And to finish, at the very last minute before plate leaves my station, 'shuna's famous hot fudge sauce' is poured on. It's the sauce that transports all the dark chocolate you might be missing from the rest of the plate. And, because it's hot, it begins melting everything it comes into contact with.

Chocolate is not impossible. Not even close. But because it's a lead singer without a last name or need for fellow musicians, it can pose a challenge. As a pastry chef you'd be hard pressed to hear a lot of negative critique about your chocolate dessert, unless it's truly god-awful or your diners hold a molten chocolate cake gun to your head.

Chocolate dominates. Chocolate is, and will always be. Chocolate. There are few flavours that can bed chocolate, and be noticed themselves.

And so. If that's the case. Play dress up. Tie a bowtie for the first time. Hook in cuff links. Wear red lipstick, go commando, let her get on top, flirt with possibility, entertain new ideas, throw That One Recipe Away and reinvent, remake, realize and never, never ever rest on your laurels, on cliches.

Chocolate deserves better. And you know it.

Lemon Sherbet Granita, Olive Oil Relish & Honey-Orange Blossom Sabayon

Lemon Sherbet Granita, white fig-golden raisin-preserved lemon-fennel seed-roasted candied fennel-arbequina olive oil relish, honey & orange blossom sabayon.

I love lemons. Lemony lemon lemonness.

But so few lemon desserts are everything I love about lemons.

too many hide the lemon's trickier sides ~ its bitter skin oil, it's catch-you-in-the back-of-your-throat-&-attack-your-eardrums kinda sour.

its pucker.

Not me. Not mine. I love love love me some citrus. I have been known to have a not-so-secret love affair with these orbs of sunshiny autumn leaf colored palette of tight pored shiny skin and segments of closely bound pressed droplets of juice.

mmmmmmm citrus.

acid.

perfume.

wet.

juicy.

thick, waxy, smooth, dense, Irish-Green leaves.

infusable blossoms.

citrus.

need I say more?

so when I began planning a winter dessert menu. I need not have looked further than this multi-shaped family of fantastic fruits.

{hey, I'm not the only chef smitten. David Kinch does an entire many coursed menu paying homage to rare & intriguing, beguiling citrus.}

When I come up with a dessert I think of one flavor. Then I close my eyes and think about what other flavors I want to have with that one lead.

I begin thinking about textures, about temperatures.

I write lists.

I consult my foundation component recipes. They may lead me to themselves, like an unplanned walk in London, or they may lead me to another idea, at which point I write a recipe as I move through weights & methods.

But a plated dessert needs composition. Arranging. Foreground, lead singer, front flavor, primary focus, shading, burning & dodging, cropping, sanding, priming, dress rehearsal, reading the play aloud, auditioning-- these are all metaphors, tools, for creating a composed; a plated dessert.

Because a film has to have a leading actor, because a band a signature style, because a company needs a vision, because a community-- a heart, because a structure needs walls before a roof, a plated dessert needs a thought process.

sometimes it takes plating it a few dozen, or hundred times, to get it just right.

sometimes a plated dessert will lead you, with its ingredients, its parts, to a shape, a vessel, a molding tool.
sometimes I have to ask for help. lay out all my mis en place, like paragraphs, and re-arrange them to fit the narrative.

and then you have to think about portioning. how much of this component leads you to eat that component? what overpowers what? who speaks first, who waits their turn, who interrupts, who acts like a cowboy, who is the wallflower, who can't whisper low enough?

and the crazy thing?

you'll never get it right.

Just Right.

you will always be tweaking. in your head. you will move the couch, centimeter by centimeter, and still feel like the Princess & The Pea.

This dessert may sound familiar to you. Yeah, I like these flavors together. I find I need to keep working on a dessert, job after job, kitchen after kitchen, menu after menu, season after season, in order to get it there. or get it out of my system. like the person you continue to sleep with long after the break up. or the wine you continue to drink long past the point of pleasure into drunkenness. or the record you wear out because you love it. to death.

or

you wear that sweater until it falls apart, and then you start wearing it to bed.

it's not about judgment. it's about attraction.

and then you might move on. or take it out when winter comes around again.

This is my favorite dessert on the menu. I know it's a little esoteric for the average person, but out of 3 desserts on offer for New Year's Eve, it sold neck in neck with the chocolate offering. If you make it in while it's on the menu, I'd love to know your thoughts.

dessert poems. V {winter in nyc

apple cider ice cream
fried apple pie
rosemary caramel
Macintosh apple salad with warmed brown butter vinaigrette

frozen honey nougat
grapefruit supremes
kalamansi lime gelee
butter-toasted brioche croutons

bay leaf cream-carnaroli risotto
juniper berry & cocoa nib shortbread
comice pears
pine nut brittle dust

butterscotch pot de creme
pile of brown sugar-cumin-buttered pecans
vanilla egg cream, chantilly

panzanella of devil's food cake & sour cherries
chocolate chocolate twig ice cream
chicory cream
hot milk chocolate sauce
vanilla salt

warm persimmon pudding
persimmon-roasted shallot-walnut-dried white fig salad
labne sabayon

membrillo filled sheeps milk cheese doughnuts
rose petal tea sugar
earl grey cream

parfait of ~
various peppercorn & jaggery roasted pineapple
black sesame-amaranth jaconde
spicy coconut sorbet
tahini-toasted coconut jelly cubes
coconut caramel
black sesame-almond milk foam

semolina "custard"
fennel seed-broken almond-golden raisin-preserved lemon-candied orange peel-honeycomb-olive oil relish
burnt orange caramel ice cream & frozen honey mousse creamsicle
poppy seed lavosh

thyme & buckwheat crepes
cream of pear & parsnip soup
orange flower water roasted pears
sizzling buckwheat groats
white coffee chantilly

fudgesicle granita
grilled pound cake
marshmallow-milk chocolate-sourdough pretzel lumps
shuna's famous hot fudge sauce

previous dessert poems  ~

I  II  III IV

plated dessert IV - chocolate_licorice

 

chocolate-licorice delice {pot de creme}, caramel sauteed plums, almond cocoa chili wafer {pectin based tuile}, chantilly, chocolate granita.

plated dessert III - tropical_meringue

 

hazelnut meringue, coconut-guava-vanilla bean sorbet, tropical fruit salsa of mango, pomegranate seeds, pineapple, lime leaf, ginger, fresh coriander {cilantro}, palm sugar, mint, galangal and lemongrass.

Hot Chocolate in London

When it gets cold out, or suddenly chilly, or Autumn's leaves begin to whisper in, or scarves begin living around my neck, I think of Hot Cocoa & Hot Chocolate {no, they are not the same.}. I want to drink hot chocolate liquid for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and I do, in secret or in public, as often as I can.

In London, part of the EU and in very close proximity to countries boasting the best chocolate making in the world, finding hot cocoa or hot chocolate worth a swallow, is harder than one might think.

But I have recently found 3 locations doing their best to convince me otherwise.

Pictured here on the right is Story Deli's little glass mug of deeply hot chocolate joy. Neither Novel, nor deli, Story Deli is a modern organic pizza restaurant deep within the folds of crazy manic super duper trendy Brick Lane madness.

When my ex pastry chef companion ordered it off the menu, we practically cried with happiness, after trial sips, at the fact that it was indeed real dairy & chocolate they had decided to put in that glass! Hot cocoa in London mostly consists of water, or skim milk if you're lucky, artificially flavored cocoa-ish substance and way too much sugar. {Can someone please tell me why a country producing some of the best dairy in the world has embraced skim milk for all of their cafes & restaurants?}

The second restaurant to completely take me off guard with it's organic milk and slow moving, practically ganache, river of chocolate wallop was Leon. With plenty of locations around London, I might have expected chain-like beverages & insipid concoctions, but no. I went to a knitting 'event' put on by Stitch & Bitch London last week, and when someone ordered the hot chocolate and the perfume attacked me from across the table, I knew. I knew I had inadvertently discovered another.

Pictured on the left is a hot cocoa worth runner up mention, for grace, poise and effort. Flat White's hot cocoa plate could be the best looking hot cocoa in London, but it was short on taste I am sad to admit.

So for third place I have to say The Modern Pantry is doing its very best to create a London hot chocolate worthy of mention. If you make it there, be sure to have a small one, at least, and tell me what you think. Being such a fan of theirs, I've secretly shared some of my opinionated thoughts with them.

Always on the lookout for fantastic hot cocoas & hot chocolates in London, please do share your favourite spots-- any list of liquid chocolate locations is a friend of mine!