A-Z blogging challenge: F is for Frangipane

I remember the first time I tasted frangipane (around 1988-89). My reaction was pretty straightforward: What is this heavenly mixture, and where can I get more? I was working at a local deli/bakery, and one of the owners looked at me as if I must have just ridden into town on the back of the proverbial turnip wagon. Seriously, you've never tasted this before? Now, he didn't actually call it frangipane, but he did identify it as a very common pastry filling, sometimes combined with fruit. (In this case, it was embedded in a puff pastry pretzel. Oh, sweet memories...)

Since then, I have eaten, made and experimented with frangipane, many times. A few variations/tweaks from epicurious.com over the years, and it's practically tattooed on my brain. I simply adore the very basic combination of eggs, butter, sugar and nuts (most commonly: almonds). Maybe a little vanilla or almond extract. That's it. Easy as can be, and flavorful.

1 cup blanched almonds
1/4 cup granulated sugar
5 Tbsp. butter
2 eggs
1 tsp. vanilla or almond extract

Grind almonds finely in food processor, pulsing to get fine, but not too fine. Add other ingredients and process to combine.

If using a pastry shell, have that prepared and chilled. I have had great luck just putting fruit and frangipane in ramekins and baking sans pastry--also, it's gluten-free that way, if that's important. (Again, the options are endless.)

When ready to bake the frangipane, preheat oven to 350 F. If using multiple small baking dishes, place them on a cookie sheet to make it easier to get them into and out of the oven. Bake 20-35 minutes, depending on baking dish (frangipane will bake faster in shallower dishes than deeper ones), until the top is golden and has puffed just slightly.

Let cool for at least 10 minutes. Store leftovers in refrigerator for up to a week.

Makes 2 generous servings or 4 smaller ones, or a dozen tart-size.

Summer berries with frangipane (top)
Fresh apricot frangipane tarts (bottom)

I consider it a sign--providential, coincidental, serendipitous, whatever you want to call it--that my very favorite flower in the world, plumeria:

...is also known as frangipani. Not exactly the same, but very close...

What's this A-Z business about? Check out my kick-off post. And stay tuned for the random joy and nonsense I concoct during the month of April!

Crepe cake, or gateau de crepes

et's not talk about how long it's been since I've posted a recipe, OK? (Crazy long, that's how long.) I'm calling "bygones" on the recent past, and have made some new year (post-birthday, anyway) resolutions about doing better in that regard. Remember that old tag line to Sweet Tea&Sunshine? "A little food, a little gratitude." Well, it's been plenty of gratitude, and most food happening offline... time to get back to posting recipes! I've got plenty in my drafts folder, for sure; just need to get my act together and turn pictures and recipes into actual posts. Wish me luck!

What better way to get back into the groove than to post my birthday dessert? Given the fact that it was crowd-sourced and all, right?! It's hard not to be pleased with what gets picked when you're the one putting all the options out in the first place, but I was super-excited to get to make a crepe cake again. Sometimes you just need the excuse to pull out the sugar and flour and eggs, am I right?

I turned to a food blogging professional (Smitten Kitchen) for the recipe, and found it rather different than ones I've used in the past. The crepe batter was quite a bit thinner, which took me a little to get used to but worked out just fine. And the custard was folded into whipped cream, which I don't remember doing in the past... again, turned out wonderfully. It's no surprise that this is definitely a make-again!

Gâteau de Crêpes
New York Times, 5/15/05, who adapted the batter from Joy of Cooking and the pastry cream from Desserts, by Pierre Herme and Dorie Greenspan.

Serves 10. (Smitten Kitchen thinks it serves way more than 10, which I would mostly concur with. I think we ended up with 16 slices, at least...)

For the crepe batter:
6 tablespoons butter
3 cups milk
6 eggs
1 1/2 cups flour
7 tablespoons sugar
Pinch salt

For the vanilla pastry cream:
2 cups milk
1 vanilla bean, halved and scraped
6 egg yolks
1/2 cup sugar
1/3 cup cornstarch, sifted
3 1/2 tablespoons butter

For assembly:
Corn oil
2 cups heavy cream
1 tablespoon sugar or more
3 Tbsp Kirsch (didn't use, not fond of the flavor)
Confectioners’ sugar

The day before, make the crepe batter and the pastry cream.

Batter: In a small pan, cook the butter until brown like hazelnuts. Set aside. In another small pan, heat the milk until steaming; allow to cool for 10 minutes. In a mixer on medium-low speed, beat together the eggs, flour, sugar and salt. Slowly add the hot milk and browned butter. Pour into a container with a spout, cover and refrigerate overnight.

Pastry cream: Bring the milk with the vanilla bean (and scrapings) to a boil, then set aside for 10 minutes; remove bean. Fill a large bowl with ice and set aside a small bowl that can hold the finished pastry cream and be placed in this ice bath.

In a medium heavy-bottomed pan, whisk together the egg yolks, sugar and cornstarch. Gradually whisk in the hot milk, then place pan over high heat and bring to a boil, whisking vigorously for 1 to 2 minutes. Press the pastry cream through a fine-meshed sieve into the small bowl. Set the bowl in the ice bath and stir until the temperature reaches 140 degrees on an instant-read thermometer. Stir in the butter. When completely cool, cover and refrigerate.

Assemble the cake the next day: Bring the batter to room temperature. Place a nonstick or seasoned 9-inch crepe pan over medium heat. Swab the surface with the oil, then add about 3 tablespoons batter and swirl to cover the surface. Cook until the bottom just begins to brown, about 1 minute, then carefully lift an edge and flip the crepe with your fingers. Cook on the other side for no longer than 5 seconds. Flip the crepe onto a baking sheet lined with parchment. Repeat until you have 20 perfect crepes.

Pass the pastry cream through a sieve once more (didn't do, worked out fine. I mean, how strained does a custard need to be?). Whip the heavy cream with the tablespoon sugar. It won’t hold peaks. Fold it into the pastry cream.

Lay 1 crepe on a cake plate. Using an icing spatula, completely cover with a thin layer of pastry cream (about 1/4 cup). Cover with a crepe and repeat to make a stack of 20, with the best-looking crepe on top. Chill for at least 2 hours. Set out for 30 minutes before serving. If you have a blowtorch for creme brulee, sprinkle the top crepe with 2 tablespoons sugar and caramelize with the torch; otherwise, dust with confectioners’ sugar (I used creme brulee sugar, see below). Slice like a cake.

I love a good excuse to get out the blowtorch! Husband walked into the kitchen and said, "Have you been taking tools out of the shop?" No, honey, that torch is ALL MINE!

Since so many of my dear friends and readers know of my hazelnut/Nutella love (there was even a jar on our front porch the night of my birthday, thank you sweet Sara), there had been much encouragement toward a Nutella crepe cake... I could have gone there, easily, with some Nutella folded into the custard while it was still warm--I've done that many times and it works wonderfully. But, as strange luck would have it, when I was making the custard, there was no Nutella to be found in my pantry. The horrors!

But I did have a lovely bar of hazelnut chocolate from Laura's recent Europe trip up in my office (where I keep my secret stash, of course!) and I whizzed that up in the food processor with a little hot cream and voila! Hazelnut chocolate sauce... perfect for pouring over and enjoying. The crepe cake itself is not overly sweet. The sauce was WAY sweet, so just a touch went a long way, and it was heaven.

It was indeed the perfect ending to a wonderful birthday day with my guys!





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Clafouti: Pick your fruit!

lafouti is something I've been meaning to make for some time, what with all the fresh fruit around... but ice cream has been winning out every time I head for dessert. I know, not a bad exchange. Finally, yesterday, after I'd gone to all the effort of turning the oven on (I know, stop it with the overachieving, seriously) I thought I might as well...

And oh how glad I am to have done it. While the dish doesn't really fit into the cake mold at all, it certainly fulfills my custard needs quite nicely. I have made a clafouti before, years ago--I think with raspberries--and had really enjoyed it. Why it's been maybe 10 years between efforts, I really can't say. It will not be 10 years until I make it again. (Learning moment: apparently when you make clafouti with anything other than cherries--the traditional fruit--it's called flaugnarde. Yeah, not a pretty sounding word. I'm sticking with clafouti, especially since every single recipe I've ever seen for the dish calls it that.)

Like the cobbler, this recipe can work with almost any fruit. I dare you to think of one (OK, kiwi just came to mind) that WON'T work. I've seen recipes for cherry of course, pear, pineapple, apple, berry, fig, apricot...

I can't give credit for this recipe to any one site, since the source on the blog I found it on wasn't correct. Regardless, there are other fabulous takes on this recipe (variations abound) here, here and here. I think I want to try them all!

Clafouti
Serves 6

1/2 stick butter, melted, plus more for baking dish
1/2 cup all-purpose flour, plus more for baking dish
1 pound fresh fruit, whatever your pleasure
1/2 cup sliced almonds, toasted
1/2 cup sugar
Pinch salt
4 eggs
1 cup milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 lemon, zested
Powdered sugar
Ice cream or whipped cream, for garnish

Preheat oven to 325 degrees F.

Generously butter and flour a 7 by 5-inch baking dish or 6 individual, wide, flat gratin dishes. (I sprayed a 9-inch glass pie plate with non-stick spray. Worked great.)

Add the fruit, in an even layer, to the prepared baking dish. I chose a combination of apricots and blueberries, which turned out lovely. The apricots were just on the cusp of ripe so they held together great, and the blueberries were a nice sweet counterpart to the tang of the apricots.

In the bowl of a food processor, add the almonds, sugar, flour and salt and pulse until they are coarsely chopped. In a large bowl, using a whisk, combine the eggs, milk, vanilla and lemon zest until they are homogeneous. Add in the melted butter and the flour mixture and whisk until smooth. Pour over the cherries.

Bake in the preheated oven for 35 to 40 minutes, or until the center is set and the top is golden brown.

Dust with powdered sugar and serve with ice cream or whipped cream or both.

I served mine warm and plain, almost right out of the oven--I don't really need anything messing with the custard, and it was heavenly. And, I have to say it was even better cold this morning for breakfast.

The extra yum in this recipe is the ground up almonds. It really imparts a frangipane quality to the custard that is lovely. 

See all that glorious custard and fruit? Heaven.

Chocolate + bread + custard = delightful chocolate bread pudding

nce again, here is an old favorite. I've been pulling the standbys out a bit more often lately... this one I made for our family visit a couple of weeks ago, especially for my dad.

A real regular from back in the catering/personal cheffing days, I would whip this one up frequently for my weekly meal deliveries--occasionally I'd mix it up and make it with white chocolate and berries, other times with Nutella mixed in with the chocolate. The standard custard proportions are quite forgiving if you want to experiment a bit.

A few years ago I made it as stated below for my dad--straight up chocolate--and it is now his favorite dessert of mine. In fact, I think he's asked for this dish for his last meal ever, so if we can be fortunate to know exactly when that is (35 or 40 years from now, of course!), I will be sure to whip him up a batch.

And, like many recipes from my catering days, this one is from epicurious. One of 10 listed on the site, and in my humble opinion, the best. The ratio of custard to bread to chocolate is just right for me... as long as you don't overcook it. Make sure there's still a wee bit of jiggle in the middle when you pull it out of the oven; that way it will be soft and delicious when dished warm with a bit of ice cream. Heaven!

Chocolate Bread Pudding
Serves 6-8
6 cups 1-inch cubes crustless French bread (from about 3/4 of a 1-pound loaf of French bread)
1/4 cup (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, melted
1 3/4 cups whole milk
1 cup whipping cream
4 ounces unsweetened chocolate, chopped
1 cup sugar
4 large egg yolks

Whipped cream or vanilla ice cream (optional)

Butter an 8x8x2-inch glass baking dish. Place bread cubes in large bowl; drizzle with butter and toss to coat. Transfer bread to prepared dish. Bring milk and cream just to simmer in heavy large saucepan. Remove from heat. Add chocolate; whisk until melted and smooth. Whisk sugar and yolks in medium bowl to blend. Whisk chocolate mixture into sugar mixture. Pour custard over bread. Cover with plastic and let stand 1 hour (some custard will not be absorbed). (Can be prepared up to 2 hours ahead. Refrigerate.)

Preheat oven to 350°F. Bake pudding until just set but center moves slightly when dish is shaken, about 35 minutes. Serve warm or at room temperature with whipped cream, if desired.

This one is not husband's favorite (something about bread is good as bread, pudding is good as pudding, but together not so much), so I need visitors to cook this for... so come on back, Pa!

My big fat Greek birthday (cake)!

So it has been noticed (you know who you are!) that cake isn't so much "done" around our house for birthdays... I'm not sure why that is, except to say that in my worldview, you should get to eat whatever you want on your birthday. If that's cake, great. If that's something else sweet, that's fine too. Not too complex in the logic department.

I actually had big plans toward real cake making--I even got a new cake pan that makes a cake in the shape of a giant cupcake; how cool is that? Unfortunately, I made and decorated two such cakes in two days, as soon as I got the pan, and subsequently got bored with that idea for my birthday. And no, I didn't take any pictures. I must get into that groove here, sooner rather than later. But so you can get the idea of what the cakes (sort of) looked like, click here: cupcake cake pan. Except I'm not a cake decorator, so not so pretty.

That left me with the "what to make for my birthday" quandary. For a couple of years I have had really sweet and beautiful Dean and DeLuca cakes ordered for me, and they are very fun, but really $$, and again, on the spectrum of yummy for the tummy, cake's not exactly IT for me.

But custard, oh my. Anything custard... creme brulee, puddings, technically ice cream and gelato are custards, right? And yes, oh yes, panna cotta. But one custardy treat stands out among the rest, and it's a whopper to pronounce: galaktoboureko. Say it slowly, phonetically, like you're 5 years old, and it gets easier. At least, that worked for me. Essentially it's a Greek custard pie. But those three little words do nothing to honor the glorious custard-'tween-phyllo that is galaktoboureko.

So today I thought it best to kick of the actual food portion of STAS (sweet tea and sunshine, don't you know?) with this rockstar dessert. On the ever-reliable epicurious, it is called simply "Phyllo-Custard Pie." Sounds a bit snoozey to me, but I'm betting the spelling issues surrounding the word galaktoboureko make listing it as such a mite unwise. But the reality of the dish is quite a bit more exotic than the recipe name in epicurious would have you believe--orange-flavored custard wrapped in phyllo, with an orange cinnamon syrup poured over after it's baked. Lovely indeed.

OK, so it's not frosting and sprinkles, but it's very me.