Taken while admiring the beach at Tulum.
Taken while admiring the beach at Tulum.
Madeleines are probably my favorite baked good - both to eat and to make. They're rich in flavor, but light in texture. They're quick to make (hellooo, morning option), but don't get boring as they exercise good techniques (easy to learn good techniques, even). And they go really well with coffee.
But like many great things before noon, there's a catch. You have to have this pan:
and of course, it only has one use: making madeleines. I used to be really opposed to getting single-use kitchen equipment, but when I find myself wanting to use such an item more frequently than some of my multi-use equipment, I have to cave. Especially when it imparts a unique contrast of texture - one half a smooth, soft side and the other more firm, scalloped. And no other mold, not even miniature bundt molds barely filled, have quite the right proportions to create the same intriguing springy texture.
These delightful cookie cakes start with a sponge, genoise batter, but that's just a fancy way to describe a particular preparation of butter, sugar, eggs, and flour. Making genoise isn't time consuming, but a slight bit technique complicated until you've made so many madeleines that you've got it down. It's all about learning not to over beat eggs (makes folding things in harder), folding in flour quickly, lightly, and completely (or they'll turn out clumpy or flat), and even worse, folding in butter the same way (same problems, but you're dealing with a slightly different beast). Folding in the flour is pretty easy when you make plain madeleines only with cake flour, but try that a couple of times then really go for it with my favorite variation - toasted hazelnut madeleines. You can even make the hazelnut flour yourself!
Makes twelve 3-inch madeleines. Store in an air tight container, but know that they are best when consumed within a day.
I spend a lot of time sharing the secrets of my cooking and my baking, but today, I'm sharing some of the secrets of my kitchen. Actually, they're not so secret to anyone who's had a peek around my kitchen.
For about five dollars, you can ensure your cookies spread evenly, brownies don't get burnt, and cakes rise perfectly. Don't think it makes that much a difference? My previous oven was always off by at least 25 degrees and had this special property of non-linear gain between 275 and 400 degrees Fahrenheit - all the temperatures where it really matters in baking. Having more than one is great because over time they die out, especially if you subject them, even the high heat ones, to high heats a lot and they check each other's work.
Alright, when I'm not taking this picture, they're about three inches right of my stove. It's great avoiding the need to rummage through a drawer when you weren't paying quite as much attention to what's in your oven as you should have. Yet I actually find it more useful that they are right by my stove than my oven below. Sure, part of it is that I mostly cook with cast iron and Dutch ovens whose handles always end up too hot to the touch, but potholders also make for a trivet substitute when you're taking a pot hot off the stove to make room for another.
Maybe your kitchen isn't as tiny as mine, but nothing doubles the size of your counter quite like a large mat. It makes normal clean up quick - just throw it in the sink, soap up, and rinse - and helps you have the working space you need for more intensive cooking. It also really eased my transition from nearly 15 square feet of usable counter space to a measly almost 4 (I did move to Manhattan). I especially love the really non-stick quality of mine that makes rolling out pie crusts, turning puff pastry, and cutting scones easy.
The duo of 3/4-inch blue painter's tape and the handy retractable black Sharpie makes labeling quick, easier to remove than anything else I've tried, and bold. Invaluable when you store lots of things that look like lots of other things. Or if you just have a bad memory for which spices you added to your latest hot chocolate mix.
I hate dealing with books or random pieces of paper flying around my kitchen when I'm trying to beat eggs or chop onions. The insides of my above the counter kitchen cabinets are the perfect usually wasted space for pasting recipes; it's easy to just open or close the cabinet to see how many teaspoons of baking powder you need. Plus, since the recipes are usually out of view, no one has to know that you secretly love how easy and nerd chic it is to read your recipes off cheap copy paper filled with monospace type (oops, I just told you).
If I call the soup I've been making nearly weekly for the past few months French onion soup, I'm probably lying a little bit. What most people call French onion soup is mostly a thing of the past for me.
But this soup is very similar. I grew out of the big croutons and the melted cheese, and I felt the need that my recipe, well method really, had to step up to the intensity those ingredients gave in other ways. Part of that was using onions with more intense flavors than Vidalia. Yet even without the sweet white onions, this soup ends up sweeter - and denser and more filling.
But I think my favorite thing about this soup is that I can tell you exactly how to make it without any measuring cups or spoons. It takes a lot of time, but it's also really easy. Don't let its requiring caramelizing onions scare you.
This makes about 4 servings when I make it in my 3.5 quart Dutch oven.
I've never understood the common obsession with chocolatey baked goods that aren't insanely rich. Don't get me wrong - I like chocolate - but that's just it, I like chocolate, not a pinch of cocoa flavor. Chocolate chip cookies always tasted better to me with the chips on the side, and chocolate cakes would have been more delicately delicious if they were vanilla. So when I make a chocolate baked good intended at least partly for me, it's got to be rich.
Cookies that secretly want to be brownies but like their density better definitely satisfy my chocolate baked good craving (and even are better than brownies to me). It seems like most people don't make chocolate cookies without making them chocolate chocolate chip cookies, but I don't want bursts of chocolate that break up the chewy texture - I want a kick of something salty. And since it's Christmastime, something peppermint.
Well, I only had six miniature candy canes, so just throwing a bunch of those into batter for about a hundred cookies (remember how I can't bake in small quantities?) wouldn't do. Where I didn't have enough candy canes, I did have a lot of peppermint bark. I threw the six miniature candy canes and a big slab of peppermint bark into my food processor to create a pepperminty chocolate powder to throw into the smooth, rich cookies for frequent bursts of minty holiday cheer.
Yields roughly 4 dozen cookies.