Pain perdu with raspberries and ricotta
Posted: May 4, 2012 Filed under: Dessert, Eggs | Tags: bread, Dessert, Eggs, Milk, Sugar Leave a comment »
Pain perdu literally means “lost bread” in French. As in the bread which you cannot eat while french and becomes stale. Probably during Roman times, a resourceful cook realized that if the bread was softened by dipping it in milk and/or eggs and then fried, it could be converted it into a delicious dish apt for all tastes. I grew up in Portugal eating it, as fatias douradas [golden slices] over Christmas, generously sprinkled with sugar and cinnamon. When I moved to Spain, I learnt their name was in fact torrijas and it would make its appearance later down the year during Lent. I am pretty sure if I bring this topic up in the office, Swiss and the Germans would claim to have their own variety of the dish. But, that belongs to another post… To close the debate, it might be worthwhile mentioning there is a considerable difference between fatias douradas, torrijas and pain perdu. The iberian varieties are deep fried, while the French opt for browning them with butter.
In any case, when I found an ancient panettone in the back of the cupboard, I remembered this recipe I had seen ages ago in a Gordon Ramsay’s book. It also had been a while ever since I used this book, and in fact, I even had a perfect group of [s]suffering guests[/s] testers coming home for brunch. Perfect occasion, perfect ingredients, perfect guests… As every Gordon’s recipe, if you follow the instructions to the letter, you will get exactly what you are supposed to get. Probably due to the differences in the ingredients, the raspberry mix got a bit messy, but nothing a pair of experienced hands couldn’t fix to the right consistency and taste. All in all, in almost less time than it took to cook it, not only I managed to get rid of old panettone but also had a very happy and satisfied crowd. Definitely calories worthwhile taking.
Pain perdu with raspberries and ricotta (adapted from Gordon Ramsay’s Fast Food: Recipes from The F Word)
Ingredients
- 125g ricotta cheese drained
- 125g mascarpone
- 2 tablespoons sugar
- 200g raspberries
- 25g butter
- 4 slices of panettone
- 3 large eggs beaten
Method
1. Put the ricotta, mascarpone, sugar and lemon juice in a bowl and mix until it is smooth. Fold half the raspberries and mix softly.
2. Put 1 slice of panettone in the egg mix and let it soak for a couple of minutes.
3. Fry the slice on both sides until golden brown (about a couple of minutes). Take it out of the pan and put it in a serving plate.
4. Repeat (2-4).
5. Put a generous spoon of the raspberry mix on top of the warm slices of fried panettone, and finish with the remaining raspberries.
6. Serve.
2. Melt the butter in a non stick pan until it begins to foam.
Vanilla buttercream frosting cake
Posted: December 20, 2011 Filed under: Dessert, Vegetarian | Tags: Cake, Dessert, Sugar, Vanilla 1 Comment »
You have read it correctly – there are no typos in this sentence nor it is poorly constructed. While the vast majority of cakes have frosting on top or in the middle, the batter of this sponge cake was indeed made using a vanilla buttercream frosting. If there is an Annals of Improbable Culinary Research in this world, this dish would be worthwhile a cover. Or, at least a featured article. In fact, the vanilla buttercream frosting cake is so unlikely to be reproduced, that I will not even try to write down the recipe. If anything, because I cannot remember what ingredient was used when, or the proportions.
Even wannabe-food-bloggers have a less-inspired days in the kitchen. Sometimes, things just don’t go the way you expect – and as we say in Portugal, o que torto nasce, tarde ou nunca se endireita [what is born crooked, late or never gets straightened]. It looked like an semi-easy cake when I read the recipe. But a few hours latter, with the cake still half done and a totaled kitchen, it seemed that I had made a colossal strategic mistake.
Everything went sort of OK, until I tried to whisk the egg whites to soft glossy peaks. I must have done this thousands of times and at this point in my life, I don’t even consider the possibility of failure. But, not today. The white egg mix split, and there was nothing I could do about it. They were split and they remained split, no matter what grandmother tricks I used. I had no other solution but start all over again.
When I thought the worst was over and the cake was placidly sitting on the stove, I started on the frosting, using a Nigella recipe. Instead of a consistent white cream I was supposed to get, I ended up with a grey-greenish liquidy crème with lots of white floaters. I tried to sieve it, as recommended by most Mothers and professional chefs. After this delicate operation, the floaters were gone, but the grey-greenish liquidy could not be used to finish any serious cake. Again, had to start again, this time using the recipe of the original recipe. It called for a lot of butter and even more sugar, but .. it worked. I have to bitterly add, that Nigella’s recipe failed me not once, but twice.
At this point, I had my kitchen bench full of discarded elements: the gray-greenish liquid (basically, butter, sugar, vanilla and some flour), 3 yolks and something that resembled beaten white eggs. Meaning, the elements you need for a cake. Following tje directions of a very basic recipe of sponge cake, I added the egg yolks one by one to the butter and sugar “cream”. Then I tossed in enough flour – and 1 teaspoon of baking powder - to obtain a batter with a nice consistency. Finally, I folded in the egg whites. No need for a lot of TLC- it was actually quite the opposite of this.
Finally, I dropped into the stove, previously heated to 175oC (pretty much a standard of baking), and waited until a wooden stick came out dry from the center of the cake.
The result was a surprisingly light sponge cake, with a fresh almondy – vanilla taste. None of the testers was aware of the precarious conditions of this experiment, and fortunately they are all still alive. Some of them even asked for seconds (and got them).
Like this:
Rice Pudding with Orange Jewels, Tarragon and Puffed Rice
Posted: July 17, 2011 Filed under: Dessert, Grains, Jams and confits, Rice | Tags: Dessert, Gary Mehigan, George Calombaris, Masterchef Australia, Milk, Orange, Rice, Sugar 2 Comments »
I cannot make rice pudding the way my Mother does. No matter how many times I have watched her doing it or how scrupulously I follow her instructions, it is not the same thing. It doesn’t taste the same, it doesn’t feel the same and it doesn’t do her recipe any justice. It seems just impossible to reproduce her pudding rice. For a while, I tried other recipes, like the one Spanish chef Juan Maria Arzak has in one of his books, to less than optimal results.
A few days ago, while watching season 2 of Masterchef Australia, I saw how Gary Mehigan and George Calombaris did this rice pudding during one of their masterclasses. It looked delicious, packed with different flavors and textures, and they comprehensively explained how to cook it. And, I decided it to give a another go to rice pudding. Anyway, what sort of expectations would you have on an Australian rice pudding recipe? It was worthwhile the effort. In fact, there was a respectful silence around the table while people eat their desserts… Do not feel tempted to remove the tarragon, on the pretenses that no rice pudding has green stuff on it. With the orange, it is a delicious combination.
Rice Pudding with Orange Jewels, Tarragon and Puffed Rice
Ingredients
Rice pudding
- 40g caster sugar (or sugar too taste )
- 700ml milk (the real thing, with all its fat)
- 135g Arborio rice, rinsed and drained
- 1 vanilla bean, split, seeds scraped
Candied orange peel
- 1 cup of sugar
- 1 cup of water
- the peel of 1 orange, pith removed, julienned in the vertical
- 1 orange, peeled zest, pith removed, julienned
To serve
- tarragon leaves,
- 1/4 cup puffed rice, toasted
- 1 orange flesh segmented
Orange jewels
- 15g caster sugar
- 1 ½ tsp agar agar powder (do not follow the instructions on the bottle, as they are aimed to get a gelatin consistency. The jewels need to be solid to be cut properly, so it is OK if you add agar agar in excess).
- 190ml freshly squeezed orange juice, strained (I used the juice of 2 oranges and topped with water until I had 250mL of liquid)
Method
Step 1: For the candied orange peel, place 1 cup of the sugar and 1 cup of water in a small saucepan over low heat, stirring until the sugar has dissolved. Increase the heat to medium, add orange peel and simmer gently for 45 minutes until syrupy. If you are not using it immediately, it is better to separate the peels and letter then cool).
Step 2: For the orange jelly, line a 500ml plastic container with cling film. Add ¼ cup water, orange juice and sugar to a small saucepan and bring to the boil. Sprinkle in agar agar and whisk for about 5 minutes until dissolved. Remove from the heat. Pour the mixture through a fine sieve into the lined container. Refrigerate for about 25 minutes or until set. Invert jelly from container onto a board and cut into 1cm cubes.
Step 3: For the rice pudding, add the milk, rice, vanilla bean and seeds to a non-stick saucepan. Bring to the boil and simmer uncovered for 30-35 minutes, or until creamy and the rice is tender, stirring regularly. Add the remaining sugar and stir for about 2 minutes until dissolved (I had to use the whole 1-L of milk, as the rice absorbed the first 700mL of milk).
Step 4: To serve, divide rice pudding between serving bowls. Arrange the jelly jewels on top, along with the orange segments, tarragon leaves, candied orange peel, a spoonful of syrup and some puffed rice. Serve immediately.
Pear and almond tart
Posted: October 24, 2010 Filed under: Dessert, Pastry and Baking | Tags: Almonds, Cake, Dessert, Pears, Sugar 1 Comment »
I found this pear and almond tart recipe on my way home, on tram 11. Someone left behind a Food & Travel magazine behind, and curiosity made me pick it up to flip through. Two tram stops latter, I had already decided to try all recipes. As pears are at its prime around A.’s birthday, it has become her official birthday cake. Well, sort of.
Pear and almond tart
Ingredients
For the pastry
- 200g plain flour
- 2 table spoons caster sugar
- 100g cold unsalted butter cut into pieces
- a pinch of salt
- 100g unsalted butter
- 100g sugar
- 2 eggs
- 100g ground almonds
- 2 table spoons flour
- 3-4 ripe pears
To make the pastry, put the flour, sugar, butter and salt in a food processor, and, using the pulse button, process until the butter is broken down (about 5-10 pulses). Add 3 tablespoons of cold water, and pulse just until the dough forms coarse crumbs; add one more tablespoon of water if necessary, but do not do more than 10 pulses. Transfer the pastry to a sheet of backing parchment, form into a ball and flatten to a disk. Wrap in the paper and let stand for 30-60 minutes.
Roll out the pastry to the diameter of the baking tin (a tarte tatin or other round flame proof baking dish). Turn the tin upside down and on the rolled out pastry and press down and trace around the edge with a sharp knife.
Alternatively, just use pre made pastry. It might not be so good, but it does the trick.
Preheat the oven the 200oC. Prick the pastry all over, line with baking parchment, and fill with baking weights. Bake for 15min, then remove the paper and weights (I used beans), and bake for 10-15min more, until just golden. Let the tart shell cool slightly before filling.
To make the almond cream, put the butter and sugar in a bowl and mix with the electric mixer, until fluffy and lemon coloured (it takes some time and patience. I start with melted butter). Beat in the eggs one at a time. Using a spatula, fold in the almonds and flour until well mixed.
Preheat the oven to 190oC. Spread the almond cream evenly in the tart shell. Peel and core the pears, and slice into 8-12 pieces, depending on the size of the fruit. Arrange the pear slices on top of the almond cream. Bake for about 20-30min, until puff and golden. Serve warm.
