May 16, 2008
Petites Meringues

My freezer is not exactly in its prime, and it suffers from ice buildup syndrome.
I put stuff in there, all wrapped up and all, and a few weeks later everything's covered in frost like the beard of a North Pole explorer. And after a while, there's so much ice covering the shelves that I half expect to see penguins skating around.
Part of my job, as this freezer's caregiver, is to defrost it regularly -- i.e. use up everything that's inside, turn it off, let the temperature rise, detach entire ice caps (that's the fun part, not unlike loosening one's milk teeth), clean the whole thing, and start afresh.
The use up everything that's inside step is, of course, the one that takes the longest. It can take weeks, especially since I'm a bit of a squirrel (I've always thought squirrels must have freezers in their tree trunk caches, but I may be wrong).
My latest empty-the-freezer campaign turned up a small tub containing two egg whites, leftover from recent batches of squeeze cookies, for which only the yolks are needed.
Leftover egg whites usually mean rochers Ă la noix de coco, langues de chat, or tuiles in my kitchen, but this time, a violent desire to make meringues took hold of me. This was to be my first time*. I was excited.
At the risk of sounding completely irrational, I must note that I've never been much of a meringue fan. When my sister and I were young girls and we dropped by the bakery to buy ourselves a goûter (an afternoon snack), she sometimes chose one of those big, pale pink, swirly meringues; I could never understand what was so appealing about a large, dry lump of sugar styrofoam that left dandruff down the front of your shirt. (Me, I was partial to the CD-sized, chocolate-coated sablés.)
So, what caused my change of heart on that particular day? Well, I had just read an excellent how-to article in the copy of Delicious. I'd brought back from Australia, and it had convinced me that, contrary to my prior belief, French meringue** was totally within my reach.
Two things remain from my old thoughts on meringue, however: 1-, I am only interested it if it has a mallowy heart -- that little lump of chewy, sticky, your-dentist-is-going-to-love-this cooked sugar. And 2-, I want flavor. The first concern is adressed by well-timed baking and proper cooling; the second, by the use of a quality flavoring agent or, in my case, a good unrefined cane sugar***, whose toffee flavors have been enhanced by the empty vanilla pod I placed in it weeks ago.
So, with that in mind, if you're a meringue virgin -- or a long-time abstinent --, I encourage you to give this recipe a try: summer is just around the corner, and you're going to need meringues to garnish your cups of berries and ice cream, no? I myself am plotting all manner of flavor variations (using cocoa powder, flower syrups, or ground nuts) and sandwiching opportunities (think ganache or fruit preserves).
~~~
* I have a long history of shying away from any recipe that requires the whipping of egg whites. My beloved stand mixer is helping me on the path to recovery.
** Technically speaking, this style of baked meringue is refered to as French meringue, as opposed to Italian meringue (used in marshmallows in particular; it is made with cooked sugar and isn't baked) or Swiss meringue (the egg whites and sugar are whisked over a pan of warm water then whisked until cool).
*** The sugar was light brown; this colored the batter and made the meringues lightly tan, too.
~~~
As a side note, if you have access to French magazines, perhaps you'll be interested in purchasing the May/June issue of ELLE Ă table, which came out yesterday. The layout and structure of the magazine have been spruced up, and I have a new column in there now!
"Petites Meringues" continues »
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May 10, 2008
Edible Wallpapers

Inspired by the brush tutorials that Delphine has published on her ever delightful blog, I have whiled away a few air travel hours drawing three edible wallpapers* to be used as a background on your computer desktop**.
After the jump, you'll find the cupcake wallpaper, the croissant wallpaper, and the religieuse wallpaper. Each of them comes in three shades, so you have nine to choose from. Enjoy!
"Edible Wallpapers" continues »
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April 30, 2008
Today Show Appearance
I was a guest on the Today Show* yesterday morning, and my segment is now available online, if you'd like to see me demo my Pear and Chocolate Cake-Tart, a recipe taken from Clotilde's Edible Adventures in Paris.
(This was my second time on the show; read about last year's segment here.)
* The Today Show is a national television show that's broadcast live every morning in the US.
April 28, 2008
On Hotel Breakfasts, and How Not to Have Them

Much has been written about plane food and its associated plights; I don't think enough ink has been devoted to the matter of hotel breakfasts. And as I get ready to embark on my book tour, the subject is very much on my mind.
Breakfast is, to me, the most intimate meal of the day, the one that you eat barefoot and in your pajamas, the one that eases the transition from your helpless, sleeping self to the person you are in the daytime and to the outside world. What you eat then says a lot about you -- I have it on authority that Brillat-Savarin meant to write "You are what you eat for breakfast"* but the maxim had to be edited for space.
If you feel the same way, I'm sure you'll agree that breakfast poses a serious challenge when you travel for work. Hotel breakfasts, even in nice hotels, make me want to cry -- remember, we're all children at breakfast -- as I stand by the buffet, trying to identify the least unappealing items and more importantly, the most nutritious, so I won't feel faint an hour later.
"On Hotel Breakfasts, and How Not to Have Them" continues »
April 22, 2008
Clotilde's Edible Adventures in Paris

It is with unmitigated joy that I announce the release of my new book today!
Clotilde's Edible Adventures in Paris is a book on Paris restaurants and food shops, in which I share recommendations for my favorite spots -- everything from neo bistros and salons de thé to bakeries, outdoor markets, wine shops, and much, much more, as they say -- plus all you need to know to navigate the City of Light and Good Food, plus a dozen recipes.
The book is coming out in North America initially (pending the sale of foreign rights, it will be available as an import elsewhere), and I am about to leave on a book tour to promote it -- please view the full list of booksigning events and see if you can come and say hi.
You can read more about the book, including reviews and excerpts, on the mini-site I've set up, and you should of course feel free to order your very own copy -- no, really.
"Clotilde's Edible Adventures in Paris" continues »
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April 14, 2008
Squeeze Cookies (A Roasted Flour Experiment)

Among the many things I learned during that memorable conference on molecular gastronomy, one idea has been whirling around my brain with particular insistence since then, and it is that of farine torréfiée*, or roasted flour.
It was introduced to us by way of a truism: raw flour is bland, browned flour isn't. This is why we bother to make roux, and why the crust of bread is tastier than the crumb. With this simple fact in mind, why not bake with roasted flour? The finished product would no doubt benefit from the heightened flavor.
Of course, exposing flour to direct heat cooks it. This changes the structure of its starch and gluten molecules, and thus it behaves differently from raw flour; one notable change is that it loses some of its elasticity. Consequently, the primary use Hervé This suggested for roasted flour is in sablés, i.e. cookies with a crumbly, sandy consistency, for which a weak gluten network is desirable.
I found a recipe for sablés à la farine torréfiée on Pierre Gagnaire's website** and it looked exciting (it uses cooked egg yolks! exciting!) but for my first roasted flour experiment, I was more curious to alter my -- or, should I say, my mother's -- basic recipe for sablés.
I did follow Gagnaire's instructions to roast the flour, and after just a few minutes I could tell that this was going very well: already my kitchen smelled like the bakery around the corner***. When the flour had cooled and I used it to make the sablé dough, however, I realized it would not come together as obligingly as it normally does, but seemed rather to wish to remain a mound of sand.
I sensed that adding more butter would do the trick, but I like the moderate butter content of my mother's recipe (most call for equal weights of butter and flour) so I proceeded as planned, and tried to form the dough into lumps however I could. The easiest (and most fun) way was to just squeeze it by the handful, a technique that resulted in these odd-shaped cookies I naturally decided to call squeeze cookies.
I find their funky look endearing, but if you're worried that someone in your household (and I'm not naming names) might liken them to slugs or caterpillars, you can also shape them into balls, or pucks, or pack the dough in an even layer in a pan, following the instructions in this shortbread recipe.
More important than the shape, you'll agree, is the flavor: I deliberately omitted any sort of flavor booster (vanilla, spices, citrus zest...) the better to judge the effect of the roasted flour, and I'm not afraid to say the effect is absolutely wowing. In fact, the same person who was so full of gastropod metaphors declared them the best sablés I'd ever made.
Grilled notes of chocolate and hazelnut come through in every bite, the consistency is a fine crumbliness unlike that of any sablé I know, and all that comes from a simple twenty-minute roasting step. See how the baking horizon has suddenly broadened? Don't you have a favorite baking recipe you should be experimenting with, right this minute?
~~~
* The French term torréfier (to torrefy) has a slightly different meaning from rôtir (to roast) but has, to my knowledge, no exact equivalent in English. Torréfier is defined as "exposing to intense heat until the early stage of carbonization." The most frequent use of the term -- and the process -- is the roasting of green, raw coffee beans, which turns them into a browned, intensely fragrant version of themselves.
** Pierre Gagnaire and Hervé This engage in a monthly conversation (in French, of course) wherein the scientist explores a chemical or physical phenomenon and the chef offers a recipe to illustrate it.
*** They say you should bake a loaf of bread before people come to visit the house you're trying to sell, but, as it turns out, just roasting some flour should do the trick.
"Squeeze Cookies (A Roasted Flour Experiment)" continues »
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Previously on Chocolate & Zucchini
Amsterdam Highlights 8 Apr 2008Chocolat & Zucchini @ La Cocotte 31 Mar 2008
On Greens, and How to Keep Them Fresh 27 Mar 2008
Kouign Amann etc. 17 Mar 2008
Carottes et Betteraves Râpées 12 Mar 2008
What I brought back from Oz 6 Mar 2008
What should I bring back from Oz? 17 Feb 2008
Super Simple Nutella Ice Cream 13 Feb 2008
From Montmartre to Montreal 8 Feb 2008
Salade Tiède de Potimarron et Haricots Blancs 6 Feb 2008
Guimauve Ă la Rose et au Chocolat 31 Jan 2008
Notes from the Molecular Gastronomy Conference 25 Jan 2008
Mignardises 18 Jan 2008
Crumiri 15 Jan 2008
If There Could Only Be Five 11 Jan 2008
Soupe Poireaux Pommes de Terre 8 Jan 2008



