An Attempt: Hazelnut Macarons with Chocolate Buttercream Filling

Macarons are something I have mixed feelings about. I first tried to make them when I was about 14 or 15 or so, back when I got my first cookbook and I thought the recipe for macarons looked pretty printed on the pages. I didn’t really understand what they were, and I certainly wasn’t aware of the hype surrounding them—maybe there wasn’t that much hype back then?

As a sort-of side note, that’s also when I didn’t really put food on some sort of complicated and precarious hierarchy; I laminated dough one day while making scalloped potatoes from a box the next night. If something looked good, I made it. I think I’m okay with having a far greater sense of food snobbery now, but I do sometimes miss my non-judgmental days.

Anyway, the first time I made macarons, it was a disaster. I didn’t know what to expect, but even I knew the weepy, flat, and falling-apart cookies that resulted seemed pretty far from success. So I forgot about them, moved on. I made them a couple times following that (somewhat more successfully), only because I knew my mom really loved them. But I never ever got macarons that looked this or this. And after a certain point, I didn’t really care to ever “conquer” them, just because I figured they were fussy, I could never get them as pretty or as good-tasting as from the stores, and they don’t satisfy me like a good plain lemon bar does anyway.

Well, my mind switched completely after spending an extended Memorial Day weekend up in Seattle with Lindsey and my brother, Jimmy. The last morning I was there, Lindsey had work in a company she works for downtown  (I know, she is so cool!! and she graduates so soon!!), so I had the morning from about 7:30-10:30 by myself. I walked through Pike Place market—something that is most definitely a huge tourist attraction, but which is actually a really, really nice market on weekday mornings when its not overwhelmingly crowded. Since it was so early, it was calm, with the people setting up the flowers in vases or transferring wheel-barrows full of ice and salmon into their stands. I went to my favorite bakery, Le Panier (at least I think it’s my favorite), ordered a pain au chocolat and a cappuccino, and sat down to read for a good hour or two while looking out over the Sound. It was really nice.

On my way out, I picked up 4 perfect macarons to give to Lindsey and her co-workers before I left to take the bus back home. Although I didn’t eat a macaron that day, I decided that they kind of embody everything I like in the world (just a slightly huge statement): leisure and luxury and aesthetic details and, of course, France. So I went home the next day and bought a bag of hazelnuts to make some hazelnut macarons.

I followed this recipe, from Pierre Hermé, via Katie at Butter Tree. She got the recipe from Hermé’s rare and coveted Macaron, and she translated it herself from its original French. I think this is the recipe that first got me following Katie (I have been wanting to make these for-ever), and she has accumulated quite the impressive collection of macaron recipes and tips since then. In her post, the macarons are called macaron praliné à l’ancienne, which frankly sounds awesome and dreamy, don’t you think? Only thing is I passed on the praline filling due to time and, let’s not kid ourselves, energy, so I don’t think just the hazelnut shells live up the the “praliné à l’ancienne” part. But, I thought the combination of chocolate with hazelnut sounded really good (I still can’t get some baci gelato out of my head 2 years after being in Italy), so I paired the hazelnut shells with some chocolate buttercream.

They were good, in the way that only chewy-airy-light-nutty macaraons sandwiched with creamy-rich buttercream can. 100% tasty (my mom ate 12 of the sandwiches in the span of like 4 hours…), but they’re not really close to being as pretty as I’d like them to be. In most cases, I feel like aesthetics with food should never be as important as taste, but these are French macarons. It wasn’t the taste that drew me into finally attempting to make them again, after all. I haven’t tried out macarons enough to know how to make them more flawless; however, some of my guesses include 1) I didn’t have a candy thermometer so I kind of went by feel when it came to the sugar syrup and meringue, 2) I don’t have a piping bag so I was doing the whole snipped-edge-of-the-ziploc approach, 3) I just need more practice? I could even feel myself pick up things along the way, with each new baking sheet filled with piped shells that went in the oven. It kind of made me want to keep going, to make something of a macaron factory out of my parent’s kitchen, just to see if I could achieve the perfect-looking one.

I’ll probably keep trying to make macarons, if only to re-create the feeling I got as the worker at Le Panier placed the brightly-colored macarons in the square box with the smell of butter and pastry in the air… then again, maybe I could just move to Seattle. Anyway, I’m all ears if you’ve got some tips or links about perfecting le macaron to send my way.

One Year Ago: Salted, Soft & Chewy Peanut Butter Cookies (the best! really)

PS: Because I can’t help myself, I’m going to attach on this song to this post (the longest post ever, gawd). Van Morrison is something  I grew up on, and his music always tugs on my heart in a way that only nostalgia can. A cover of the song, by Jeff Buckley, has basically become my favorite song throughout the past half-year, and I spent many a morning in art class on Tuesdays and Thursdays, during my last semester at college, listening to it while painting. I listened to both versions while spending the afternoon making these macarons yesterday. I wouldn’t mind doing that again.

A Raw Brownie, of sorts

I don’t usually like to post these sorts of recipes on my blog, and by these I mean any sort of “healthy” thing trying to serve as a replacement for a “unhealthy” treat. Recipes like these usually include some combination of the words raw, paleo, gluten-free, dairy-free, vegan—you get the picture—and they almost always involve substitutions that make the dessert taste most definitely not like a real dessert.

Thing is, while I’m pretty snobby to that sort of thing, as you can see I’m trying (not sure if my efforts are too successful at this point) to present a batch of raw brownies that I made over the weekend. So obviously I’m a hypocrite.

Well, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way… let me tell you why I like these bars. They’re rich, dense, and fudgy. I guess in that sense they’re “brownies” though I wish I could instead call them “fudgy, deeply chocolatey raw squares” because that’s what they most honestly are. (When I think of brownies, I think of fudgy and chewy and cakey all wrapped into one, which I don’t think these quite achieve—nor should they because, as my dad says, “there’s no free lunch.”) They are extremely satisfying in the sense that you only need a small square to be answer a chocolate and sweet craving.

And, yes, I do think they are kind of “healthy.” They are completely raw, which means that all of the ingredients are uncooked and unprocessed. This makes for some sort of health benefits that I can’t really articulate but that I have completely bought into—something along the lines of all the nutrients being at their highest, most absorbent levels and it all making it easier for the body to more easily digest and process everything. Even the sugars in the bars, which come from dates, come with a whole host of other benefits, and especially more so than those that come from plain white sugar (which, in case you were wondering, are none). Even the chocolate is raw, which means that it was not processed with heat—hence the name cocao and not cocoa powder.

I do kind of realize that if I eat a smoked pulled pork sandwich with sugary barbeque sauce for dinner (oh, the best), and eat a square of these right after, I’m not really doing any good. But! I do kind of believe that if I grab a bite of a raw brownie on a weeknight and it then prevents me from devouring a big bowl of fro-yo and all of its gluttonous toppings, then they’ve done some good. And hey,  if I’m wrong in all this, at least I kind of actually really like how they taste so there’s no suffering really done on my part.

In a world where a “health tip” can in include the suggestion of drinking water because it “prevents cancer,” I know things have gone pretty far off the map with trying to distinguish that ever-growing black-and-white line of what is healthy or not. I’m not here to draw that line or encourage you to step to one side of it or the other…I’m just saying, if you’re in an adventurous mood to make some seriously dense and seriously bittersweet bars that don’t make you feel like crap after having eaten one or two, give these a try.

PS: My song pick of the week is this one, by Radiohead.

One Year Ago: Asian Chop Chop Salad

Raw “Brownies”
Adapted slightly from My New Roots

2 cups (210 grams) walnuts
1 cup (92 grams) raw cocao
scant 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt
1 1/2 – 2 cups (250 grams) Medjool dates, pits removed
3/4 cup (100 grams) almonds, roughly chopped

Line a 8 x 8 square-inch pan or a 9-inch pie pan with wax paper or aluminum foil.

In a food processor fitted with a steel blade, blend the walnuts until finely ground (and sandy looking), about 30 seconds or so. Add in the raw cocao and salt, and pulse a few times to blend.

With the food processor running, add in the dates one at a time. With the growing addition of the dates, the mixture should start to look moist and sandy, almost as if you were making a pastry dough. The mixture should be starting to come together and should easily stick together when pressed between your fingers. If not, add more dates, one by one, until you get the right consistency.

In a large bowl, combine the chopped almonds and the date-cocao mixture. At this point, I think it’s most helpful to use your hands; you want the almonds to be blended consistently throughout the mixture. Transfer to the aluminum-lined pan and press firmly into the mold and along the edges. Place in the freezer or fridge until ready to serve; they are easiest to slice into squares when cold. I do, however, prefer mine to be eaten at room temperature after the squares soften up and get a little more squidgy. If you want them to taste extra soft and almost gooey, put a bar or two in the microwave for 8 seconds or so.

Chewy Almond Butter Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies

I realize that chewy almond butter oatmeal chocolate chip cookies is a pretty long title for a cookie to have. Is it a little bit over the top? Maybe. But these ones surprised me because they live up to every bit of their attention-grabbing name, and maybe even more so. When I first read about them on Amanda’s blog, I thought they sounded good because, sure, I like chew and almond butter and oatmeal and chocolate and cookies—yes, especially that last part. I figured they would be a nice excuse to bake and eat some treats on a deadbeat weeknight since they hide so cleverly behind the facade of “healthy” by being made with all rolled oats, healthy fats from the almond butter, with a little boost of nutrients from the flax seed.

But let’s not kid ourselves. Cookies are cookies are cookies. It’s like when one of my roommates buys knock-off oreo “Who-Nus” that have “as much iron as a cup of spinach” or “as much calcium as a glass of milk.” Are those petty nutritional stats supposed to make a person feel better about eating a whole 24-pack of low-quality cookies? Because seriously, next time I’d personally rather just stick with the oreos and take a vitamin on the side.

These cookies do have some nutritionally redeeming qualities about them, but yeah, they’re still most definitely a treat. I baked them off earlier this week when I wanted some treats for my roommates and me that wouldn’t make me feel too guilty if I ate 4 of them in one night (it worked). And while the whole nutrition deal was a good excuse to make them, it was the chew and the flavor that surprised me and made me like them more than about 90% of all other cookies I’ve ever tried. These are really, really great. They are super chewy and a little soft, have some great texture from the rolled oats, and the cinnamon-almond-chocolate flavor combination is spot-on perfect. I’d make them for friends and company without any hesitations and without the need for the preface of something along the lines of “oh, these are kind of healthy-ish cookies…” These are some good cookies to keep in mind—whether you care about the whole healthy fats-whole-grain-flax-nutrients part or not. I wasn’t going to blog about these, but a friend urged me to after eating one or two or three of them. If you need any more convincing, Amanda’s post is really great.

Anyway, I have no real segue into talking about this so I’ll just go right ahead: Last night for Valentine’s Day my best friend and I hosted something of a girls-night-dinner for all of our single friends (I was included in this group because basically when you are in a long distance relationship, for all-intensive purposes, you are single on national holidays). I made a big batch of risotto with parmesan and peas, served with these chicken meatballs piled on top. For dessert I made this chocolate-almond torte, and it made for a nice chocolatey-filled end to the evening. It’s like a mix between one giant meringue and a chocolate flourless torte. Flaky, dense, rich, but light. It was perfect. And! yesterday while making it, I realized that  it is completely fat-free. Like, there’s not even egg yolks in it. But, like the cookies, I would hate to emphasize some random health property as one of its defining features because it is too great of a torte to have “fat-free” be a blanket over its identity.

And, speaking of the Valentine’s Day that just passed, I hope you all had a lovely one. While I have no qualms with the holiday—I am neither repulsed by it nor attracted to it—I do like excuses to get together with friends and/or loved ones and cook and talk and laugh and all that nice stuff. I have to say though, if I read how someone is “blessed” to have a significant other or whoever in their life one more time on facebook, I am going to cry. So, to restate all that, I hope you had a very nice…unblessed Valentine’s Day. If not, there are always cookies.

One Year Ago: Homemade Soft Pretzels & a Honey Mustard Dipping Sauce (these are awesome, so much so that I’ve made these about 6 times since that post a year ago—including only less than 2 weeks ago)

Chewy Almond Butter Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies
Adapted slightly from Amanda, who adapted it from Eat, Live, Run
Makes 15 cookies

You may substitute an egg for the flax-water mixture, just as you can substitute coconut oil for the butter to make it vegan. Also, you do not need to refrigerate this dough to firm it up before you bake it (awesome), but if you do, press down the chilled dough balls a little bit because they will hardly spread out at all if you don’t. 

1 tablespoon ground flax
1 3/4 cups old-fashioned rolled oats
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
2 tablespoons (1/4 stick) butter, softened
1/2 cup almond butter
1/4 cup sugar
1/4 cup brown sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
heaping 1/2 cup semisweet or bittersweet chocolate chips

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper or a nonstick mat. In a small bowl, mix together the flax with 3 tablespoons of water; set aside for at least 5 minutes so that the flax can soak up the water and set up. In a medium bowl, whisk together the oats, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and cinnamon. Set aside.

In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream together the butter, almond butter, and the granulated and brown sugars on medium speed until smooth, about 2 minutes. Add the vanilla and the flax-water mixture and combine to blend. Add in the dry oatmeal mixture, along with the chocolate chips, and mix until fully combined. The dough will be pretty moist but will hold together really well.

Roll golf-ball sized portions of the dough into balls and place on the prepared baking sheet, making sure to leave at least 2 inches between each cookie. Do not flatten them (unless you’re baking them after refrigerating them). Bake in the preheated oven for 10 to 12 minutes, or until the cookies have gotten puffy and a little brown around the edges. They’ll look a little underdone on top, but they’ll continue cooking and setting up after you take them out. Let cool on the baking sheet for a few minutes before transferring them to a wire rack to cool completely. Store in an airtight container or baggie.

Bûche de Noël (Yule Log)

Merry (late) Christmas, everyone. For dessert this year, as the past two years, I’ve made a bûche de Noël—otherwise known as a yule log or a roulade wheel. This is the second time I’ve made this specific recipe (from Cook’s Illustrated), which features a bittersweet chocolate genoise cake, a marscapone-espresso filling, and a rich chocolate ganache to top everything with. I don’t think it’s the traditional flavors of a classic bûche de Noël, but I like them. Rich, intense, perfect with a cup of coffee or tea following a little bit of a feast the night of Christmas.

I wanted to post about a different bûche de Noël last year, when I made a recipe from Alice Medrich that had chocolate-hazelnut flavors. But this is how it went:

And you may take one look at that, and then another look at that front photo displaying the yule log I made last night, and wonder what the difference is. They both look cracked, squat, and nothing like the beautiful multiple rolls of yule log that you might find on google images. And you would be right if you thought that! But there is a difference—the recipe I followed should display a beautifully-rolled cake, were it not for the fact that the largest jelly-roll pan available in my mothers kitchen measures 12 x 8 inches.  I may just be a bit biased, but I think this year’s yule log is not quite so flat and squat, despite the fact of how thick and short the genoise cake measured up to be.

The log itself takes some time, but I think its well worth the effort and the process itself is pretty fun. Bowls of varied sizes and varied fillings lie around the kitchen—one filled with thick chocolate ganache, spiked with a touch of cognac, another with the marscapone-espresso filling, still others with whipped egg whites, or glossy ribbons of chocolate and egg yolks. It’s quite the project, which actually may intimidate some. But I promise it makes you feel as if you are single-handily making magic in the kitchen, and there is no better day to do that then on Christmas.

That being said, every single year I tell myself I’m going to make a more extensive, more striking  bûche de Noël. Start earlier, prep the filling and ganache, make little meringue mushrooms to attach on, you know. But then I’m busy making thick hot chocolate and cookies the night before, waking early to happily get Christmas breakfast ready, and so on and so on occupying myself with varying food and social opportunities so I can never really focus on this dessert. Every Christmas afternoon, I’m in the kitchen slaving away on this. My French professor, who is born and raised in Belgium, says that every year she buys her  bûche de Noël from a local pâtisserie. With all the work and planning that goes into holiday baking and cooking, I can understand those who opt for buying some things already made up. There’s nothing wrong with being selective in what we choose to focus our energies on.

But for those of you who might find it fun to use up every size bowl in your kitchen while making the components to this cake, take to this dessert. The results are beautiful—no matter how much of a flop final product may be. Speaking of that, this yule log may be good for my cooking abilities: it’s the sort of thing that one can’t be apologetic for. Yes, so it falls a bit short of its ideal aesthetics. It put my vanity in check, forcing to me to realize that cracks along the yule log are far less important than serving it in its entirety to grateful guests on a beautiful Christmas night. (However, I am hoping to check in with you in approximately a year, presenting you with yet another bûche de Noël, made properly on a larger sheet pan, with no cracks and with meringue mushrooms on top.)

We ate thick slices of this after a feast of honey-glazed ham (pre-cooked at the store; see wise observation above about focusing one’s energies during the holidays), a most ugly yet still incredibly delicious pommes anna, roasted butternut squash, braised kale, and beautiful gougères from a beautiful new cookbook I got for Christmas. How was your Christmas, readers? What did you serve for sweets? And most importantly, any blunders or setbacks that you had to swallow your vanity on and proudly serve anyway?

One Year Ago: Raspberry-Almond Linzer Cookies and Pot Roast Risotto

Bittersweet Bûche de Noël with Marscapone-Espresso Filling
From Cook’s Illustrated

This is a very bittersweet, rich dessert—substitute semi-sweet chocolate if you think bittersweet chocolate is too intense for you. Also, if you want to plan ahead, the ganache and filling can be made a day before hand and chilled until necessary. Also, I toned down the espresso flavor—up the amount of espresso powder to two teaspoons if you want a more intense flavor. Also, a word of wisdom: read through the whole recipe before you make it to make sure you have your wits about you when dealing with all the components.

Dark Chocolate Ganache:
3/4 cup heavy cream
2 tablespoons butter
6 ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped
1t ablespoon Cognac

Espresso-Mascarpone Cream:
1/2 cup heavy cream
1 teaspoon espresso or coffee powder
6 tablespoons powdered sugar
16 ounces (about 2 cups) mascarpone cheese

Chocoalte Genoise Cake:
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 cup (3/4 ounce), Dutch-processed cocoa powder
1/8 teaspoon table salt
6 ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped fine
2 tablespoons butter, cut into two pieces
2 tablespoons water
6 large eggs, separated, at room temperature
1/3 cup granulated sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/8teaspoon cream of tartar

—For the dark chocolate ganache (can be made ahead of time): In a 2-cup measuring cup, microwave the cream and butter on high until the mixture is just bubbling, about 1 1/2 to 2 minutes. (You could alternatively bring this mixture to a bubble in a small saucepan.) Meanwhile, in a food processor fitted with a steel blade, place the chopped chocolate. Start running the machine, and gradually add the hot cream-butter mixture, followed by the cognac. Continue to process the mixture until thick, smooth, and homogeneous  about 2 to 3 minutes. Transfer the ganache to a medium bowl and set aside for at least an hour to let it thicken while making the rest of the components. When about to be used, whisk to combine and thicken; it should have the final consistency of thick icing.

—For the espresso-marscapone filling (can be made ahead of time): In a small saucepan over medium-high heat, bring cream to a simmer. Once simmering, remove from heat and whisk in the espresso powder and powdered sugar. Meanwhile, place the marscapone cheese in a medium bowl and stir with a rubber spatula until its softened and smooth. Whisk in the sweetened cream mixture, and continue to whisk until completely combined. Place in the fridge to thicken until needed for use.

—For the chocolate genoise cake: Adjust the oven rack to be in the upper-middle position and preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. Butter an 18 x 12-inch rimmed baking sheet, fit the bottom with parchment, and butter the parchment. Dust the baking sheet with flour to coat all its surfaces, tapping out the excess. Set aside. Sift flour, cocoa and salt together in a small bowl; set aside.

Bring about 2 inches of water to a simmer in a medium saucepan over medium-low heat. Set a small-medium glass bowl over it, containing the chocolate, butter, and water. Cover the bowl tightly with plastic wrap, and leave it alone for about 10-15 minutes, or until the butter is melted and the chocolate is glossy and submissive to complete smoothness when stirred. (I know this sounds weird, but do it; it works. Leave it alone without stirring or bothering it until its ready to be taken off the heat.) Remove the bowl from heat, unwrap, and stir until smooth and glossy. Set aside to cool slightly.

Separate the egg yolks and whites into separate bowls, with the whites being in a larger, clean bowl. Beat the egg yolks on medium-high speed with an electic mixer until combined, about 15 seconds. Add half the sugar and continue to beat, scraping down the sides of the bowl, for about another 6-8 minutes, or until the mixture is a beautiful pale yellow and it falls from the beaters in thick ribbons. Add the vanilla and combine, beating about another 30 seconds. Using a rubber spatula, gently stir in the set aside chocolate-butter mixture into the yolks until combined. Set aside while working with the egg whites.

Turning attention to the bowl with egg whites, add the cream of tarter and beat with very clean and dry beaters until the egg whites are foamy, about 30 seconds. Add about a teaspoon of the remaining sugar and continue to beat for a minute more, or until soft peaks form. Gradually add the rest of the sugar (a few tablespoons left at this point), and continue to beat until the whites are glossy and holds stiff peaks when the beaters are lifted, about 2-3 minutes longer. Do not overbeat. Using a rubber spatula, stir about a quarter of the whipped whites into the yolk-chocolate mixture to lighten it. Continue by folding in the remaining whites gently until no streaks remain. Sprinkle the set aside dry flour-cocoa mixture over the egg-chocolate mixture and fold it all together quickly but gently.

Pour the batter into the prepared pan, and work quickly to spread it all smoothly and evenly in the pan. Bake in the preheated oven until the middle of the cake if firm and springy when touched with a finger, about 8 minutes. Cool in pan for 5 minutes. While the cake is cooling, sprinkle a couple tablespoons of cocoa powder over a spread-out clean kitchen towel. Rub the cocoa into the towel using your hands. Once the cake has cooled for 5 minutes, run a knife along the edge to loosen the cake (it should already be pulling away from the sides.) Invert cake onto the towel and peel off the parchment. Starting at the long side, roll the cake with the towel together in the classic jelly-roll style. Let cool this way for 15 minutes, then unroll the cake.

—To assemble it all: On the just un-rolled cake, immediately spread the the marscapone filling evenly over the surface of the cake, almost reaching its edges. Re-roll the cake snugly around the filling. At this point I would move the cake to a serving platter, “seam-side” down. Spread the set aside chocolate ganache evenly over the log, using an off-set spatula. Use a fork to make wood-like indentations on the surface of the ganache, if you’d like. Refrigerate the cake to set and keep it there until ready to be served.