, just came in the mail last week, and I've been poring over it. I kept saying her name over and over to myself, and wondering why it sounded so blasted familiar. Finally I put my finger on it: she wrote Baking with Julia
, of course! If Emilia had been sitting with me then, she would have said, 'A-doi, mama!' (Yes, it is true that our Little Tomato could point out Julia Child in a line-up. We are civilized, after all.)Anyway, as I was saying, I've been reading this new cookbook and marveling all the while. Dorie Greenspan is a great food writer. She is so very readable -- and likeable -- that her new book makes me want to cook everything in it. I actually laughed out loud (that would be LOL for the younger generations) when I read her introduction. She writes: 'I returned home to New York City, assured my mother that I loved her even though she'd made the mistake of having me in Brooklyn instead of Paris, and proceeded to devote the rest of my life to remedying her lapse in judgement.' Ha! I remember accusing my mother of the same thing ages ago, yet not quite so eloquently, I can assure you.
Another thing that caught my eye in the introduction was the picture of Dorie in her kitchen. She is standing, in a pair of rather pretty shoes, in what appears to be a one-butt-kitchen**. That's right -- her kitchen is not some huge expanse. Instead it is small, well-appointed, and only meant to fit one butt at a time. I'm guessing this doesn't bother her as I'm assuming said kitchen is in the heart of Paris.
Our fridge is currently stocked with the things needed to make a handful of her recipes over the next week. However, the one I decided to start with was gougères -- cheese puffs, for those of you not in the know. And I'm not talking about the sort you find in the chip section at the grocery store. Rather, I am talking about the marvelous little puffed mounds of cheese flavored heaven that are so divine to eat. I've made gougères a few times in the past, and each time I do, I marvel at my extraordinary skill. I love to bite into one, and then have a look inside at the remaining bit. It is exactly what it is supposed to look like. And, in case you were wondering, it is essentially the same dough used to make profiteroles and éclairs and such -- another thing on my list to make in the near future.
The recipe itself is very easy to make. However, you must follow the recipe to a tee. Our oven runs on the hot side, so the first batch ended up a bit on the brown side; still good, but brown, nonetheless.
One is meant to have gougères as an aperitif with kir or champagne or something. Dorie highly recommends champagne with gougères, and I think this would be best. However, we are supposed to be tightening our belts around here, and champagne obviously cannot be stretched over any period of time. You've got to drink the lot right after it is opened. So instead, I opted for kir, which is something I've always wanted to try anyway.
Kir is actually a very old drink dating back to Dijon, France. It is a mix of crème de cassis and white wine. (One part crème de cassis to four or five parts white wine.) According to the website Food.com, crème de cassis is '[a] sweet black currant-flavored liqueur with a blood-red color. Crème de cassis is added to white wine to make the aperitif kir. It dates back to the 16th century, and was first produced by monks in France as a cure for snake bites, jaundice, and wretchedness.' Wretchedness? Alright, don't mind if I do.
**My sister is the one who introduced me to this term. I have been yelling for quite some time that I cannot walk in our house -- particularly in the kitchen. When Emilia tosses her things all over it, Governor is hovering at my feet and hoping that a piece of cheese inadvertently falls in front of him, and Michael is unloading the dishwasher, making his lunch, etc, I want to pull my hair out. And so we've decided that our next house will not be a one-butt-kitchen. However, I would be willing to reconsider if this house was in, oh, I don't know, Paris maybe?
**Side-note -- I quite like this particular post and am glad it turned out the way it did. Because when I sat down to do it a bit ago, all I could think of was the fact that Kim Kardashian's face has been all over the internet the past few days because the twit has gone in for botox. She isn't even 30. On top of that, I was not asked for my identification when I went in to buy the crème de cassis needed for the kir. They have a sign hanging up stating that if you look younger than 35, be prepared to show your ID. I do not look older than 35! (I am older than 35, but that is neither here nor there.) I nearly walloped the cashier on our way out the door. Hmpf!
Gougères
makes about 16
½ cup whole milk
½ cup water
8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter, cut into 4 pieces
½ teaspoon salt
1 cup all-purpose flour
5 large eggs, at room temperature
1 ½ cups coarsely grated cheese, such as Gruyère or cheddar (about 6 ounces)
Position the racks into thirds in your oven, and preheat to 425° F. Line two baking sheets with parchment.
Using a heavy bottomed saucepan, bring the milk, water, butter, and salt to a rapid boil over high heat. Add the flour to the pan all at once, lower the heat to medium-low, pull out your wooden spoon or wire whisk, and begin stirring as though your life is hanging in the balance. The dough will come together and the bottom of the pan will be coated with a crusty-floury coating. Keep stirring like crazy for another minute or so to dry the dough out a little. It should now be quite smooth.
Turn the dough into the bowl of your heavy-duty mixer. Let it sit for a minute, then, using the paddle attachment, add the eggs one at a time. Beat, beat, beat until the dough is both thick and shiny. Make sure to beat the dough quite thoroughly in between each egg addition. It may come apart in this process, but do not be detered, as it will come right back. Beat in the grated cheese.
Now is not the time to go and sit down for a bit. Once the dough is made it needs to be used immediately.
Using about 1 tablespoon for each gougère, spoon the dough out onto the baking sheet. I used my ice cream scoop, which worked like a charm, but I've also been known to use a pastry bag in the past. Leave about 2-inches between each mound so that they can puff up appropriately.
Put the baking sheets into the oven and immediately turn the temperature down to 375°. Bake for 12 minutes, then rotate the pans from top to bottom. Continue baking for another 12 to 15 minutes. The gougères will nice and puffy, golden, and firm to the touch. Serve immediately. (Recipe from: Around My French Table by Dorie Greenspan. Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2010.)
No comments:
Post a Comment