Orange Cake

I used to love the orange cakes that my grandmother Dina used to make. Since she can't exactly be reached anymore and her vast assortment of recipes is unorganized and in the hands of two or three different people, I had to try to recreate her recipe.

Actually, that was the ambitious goal, originally. Later on, I settled for just making something decent. I took the one cake recipe of hers that I have, "Bolo 3", one that that calls for 3 eggs, 3 cups sugar, 3 cups flour, 2 sticks butter, and tweaked it a little. I wanted something lighter, less dense, and that would have some resemblance of the taste of Madeleines. This is the result and it turned out to be great, if you can pardon the lack of humility here.

Ingredients

• 1 stick softened butter
• 2 cups sugar
• 3 eggs, separated
• 2 tbsps finely chopped orange zest
• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1.5 cups milk
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• 1.5 tbsps baking powder

Cream the butter and the sugar, then start incorporating the egg yolks one at a time. Beat until the mixture has a very light yellow color. Add the flour half a cup at a time, alternating with a quarter cup of milk (save a half cup milk for later). Add the vanilla and the orange rind; beat until well incorporated. Beat the egg whites to hard peaks and set aside. Mix the reserved half cup milk and the baking powder softly, until it foams. Fold the egg whites and the baking powder mix into the batter, taking care to deflate the volume as little as possible.

Pour the batter into a buttered and floured bundt pan and bake at 350F for about 30 minutes. At the end of this time, check for doneness by inserting a toothpick, which should come out clean.

Ingredients for syrup

• half to one cup of orange juice
• 4 tablespoons sugar
• one shot of grappa or rum

Warm up the orange juice slightly just until you can easily dissolve all the sugar. Mix in the liquor and drizzle over the cake after pricking it all over with a fork or toothpick.

A la recherche de les madeleines perdu

Madeleines... the little cookies or, maybe, little cakes that so inspired Marcel Proust. The little pastries (how's that for a compromise solution) subtly flavored with orange zest that go so well with a cup of espresso or café au lait. Piece of heaven. This weekend I set out to try making madeleines and threw in some scientific method to figure out how to make them the way I really like.

I started out with the search for the perfect mold. After reading a number of reviews online, I settled for the "Gobel 15-1/2-by-9-Inch Tinned-Steel Madeleine Pan", which I bought from Amazon.com for measly $12. My friend super-chef extraordinaire Bekah recommended instead a silicone mold and seeing that I resisted the idea, she lent me her Gastroflex. Each kind of mold is supposed to have their strength: the metal is supposed to give you a nice golden crust around the pastry, while the silicone is easy to prep and to clean.

In terms of preparing the molds, though, I discovered through experience that the difference is nearly negligible. I put my metal mold in the freezer for 5 minutes, while I melted some unsalted butter. With the butter ready and still warm, I took a brush and "painted" the mold generously with butter, which solidified almost instantly. Using a metal mold elicits the question of whether you should dust the buttered mold with flour, so I prepared half of the mold each way. Prepping the silicone was almost the same deal, except that it didn't need to get chilled and it never asks for a dusting of flour. The difference in overhead work with either mold was almost non-existent.



Now the onto the results. In all cases, with both molds, the madeleines came off easily after baked, so dusting the metal mold made no difference and it's an overhead that I eliminated. Taste and texture, on the other hand differed between metal and silicone. The metal mold gave me a fluffier pastry, more airy and lighter, what was not my favorite result. I read recipes that recommended filling the mold with dough to the brim of the cup, while others recommended filling only a half or 3/4. The completely filled cups didn't look good at all: the dough spread outside the cup into a rectangular shape, instead of giving you the madeleine traditional, characteristic hump. So, given that I wanted to make things work for the mold that I already have, I tried again but filling only 3/4 of the cup. The result was much better and it looked like what I expected.



There was a bit of trick in filling the cups that I didn't read about in any of the recipes I found. Normally, you are told to pipe the dough in with a pastry bag or to just spoon it in. Sometimes, you are told to smooth the top with your fingers, but trying to do so, things got a bit messy as the dough is sticky. Dipping your fingers in cold water does the trick: the dough won't stick to your fingers this way.

The silicone mold gave me a denser, heavier pastry that I liked a lot better. Biting into pastries from each kind of mold, I couldn't tell much difference in terms of crunch on the exterior. As to the color, both were equally acceptable, and to be honest, I think I prefer the yellow of the silicone to the golden brown of the metal. Which kind would you like best is for you to figure out. This really hit the spot for me: the denser pastry has a bood bite and feels absolutely right to my palate, but then again, I haven't tasted madeleines made in France.



As to what recipe to use, I read many and decided to try first the one in Nancy Silverton's "Pastries from the La Brea Bakery". I normally would swear by Jacques Pepin, but I thought that the lack of complexity in the recipe in his "Complete Techniques" was going to follow through in the flavor department. Silverton's recipe calls for ground blanched almonds and I think that this addition made for a very interesting flavor that paired well with the orange zest. I left out the vanilla bean she recommends (the darned thing is expensive!) and used orange instead of the lemon zest. I guess I have some more experiments to bake, or some more cookies to eat, so until next time.

Ovos Moles de Aveiro

It's said that the real recipe for this delicious, rich, Portuguese egg custard is a secret only know to a few in the town of Aveiro. I've poked around the web and compared the recipes I found until I was confident that I could make something close to the real thing. This recipe is simple in the sense that the list of ingredients is short, but this is all about technique.

Ingredients:

• 80 ml white rice (non-glutinous) + double the volume in water (or a little more)
  
• 200 ml water
• 300 ml white, refined sugar
• 10 yolks

Start by cooking your rice: mix it with water, bring it to a boil in high temperature, then lower to medium and allow to cook until the rice starts to fall apart. Yes, you really want to overcook this and very much so. If you notice that the water is disappearing fast, add a little more at a time, until it has nearly become gruel. Take off the heat and move it to a food processor. Puree the thing as much as you can, put it in a bowl and move on to the remaining steps.

As your rice "paste" is cooling, carefully separate your eggs. You will not be using the whites in this recipe; save them for "suspiro" or "pudim de claras". Try to not leave much of the whites in the yolks, which you should be placing in a bowl that can hold a volume of 0.5 l or more. Set them aside and go work on the syrup.

In a sauce pan, mix the sugar and the water and warm them up slowly, stirring to dissolve the sugar. Raise the heat and continue to stir until you reach 117 Celsius (not Farenheit, please). A digital thermometer will come in handy here. Remove from the heat immediately.

Mix the rice paste into the yolks; still vigorously until well blended. Start pouring in the syrup slowly, but in a continuous stream and always stirring fast. When the syrup is completely incorporated, move the mixture back into the sauce pan. Cook slowly, in medium to medium high heat until the custard thickens.

The question is "how thick is thick enough" and the answer is "it depends". If you want to serve the custard by itself, in a small cup with a faint dusting of powdered cinnamon, it doesn't need to be very thick. In that case, you could leave it a little runny (as long as the yolks had time to cook). It's delicious this way.

If you want to use the custard as a pastry filling (in "barriga de freira", "pastel de Santa Clara", or "pastel de Coimbra"), you want the custard to be quite thick, so that when it cools, it holds its shape when you take a spoon out of the bowl. In this case, you should cook it until you can see the bottom of the pan when you drag a spoon across.

One point to consider is that the rice is really here to be a filler and a thickener. (I've found recipes that suggest rice flour instead of cooked rice.) You could make this recipe with thrice the number of yolks and no rice at all. The result would be more true to the "real thing", but it would also be incredibly rich. I don't mind using the rice to stretch the yolks, because the neutral starch creates a more balanced result. Whether you do the real thing or the bastardized version is entirely your call.

Bresaola!

This Saturday, I made my weekly visit to the local grocery store and was impressed out of my socks to discover that our little central Pennsylvania town has climbed up a notch in ethnic product selections. The Citterio brand that has been bringing prosciutto, sopressata, and mortadella to our region now sends us also bresaola, which is a delicious kind of air cured beef. The meat is naturally very lean (less than 2% fat), sliced paper thin, as it's supposed to be, and shipped in resealable plastic packaging.

How does one eat this bresaola "thingy"? Ok, let's roll back and start from the basics: How does one pronounce bresaola? Here's my best shot at a phonetic spelling: breh-ZOW-lah (don't blame me if no one understands you). Back to eating: try eating a slice by itself right out of the package. It hope you'll agree with me that it tastes good. I'll tell you though, that you can make it better, much better. Arrange a nice layer of arugula on a serving plate. (Baby arugula is ok, but it will be mellower than the sharp, peppery taste you get from the full grown leaves.) Cover the arugula with slices of bresaola and top with one of the two suggested condiments below.

1. Give the plate a light drizzle of excellent olive oil (the premium extra virgin Carapelli oil is not expensive and tastes great) and good balsamic (my family is partial to the "condimento balsamico" from Acetaia Leonardi, which has been renamed "saba" in recent years). Don't exaggerate, though! Remember a light drizzle will allow you to taste the arugula and the bresaola. Sprinkle some freshly cracked black pepper and a few shavings of Parmiggiano Reggiano. As you dig your fork into the plate, try to build mouthfuls combining pieces of bresaola, arugula and cheese. The combination of the flavors is great.
   
2. Instead of the balsamico, how about drizzling some freshly squeezed lemon juice? I actually like this variation even better since the acidity of the lemon enhances the peppery taste of the arugula. Cheese or no cheese with lemon? Up to you. I don't really need cheese when I make this variation, but I like to go a bit further with the cracked pepper.
   
3. I've been known to say that "everything you can do with lemon can be done better with lime, instead". Try it out with bresaola and decide for yourself.
   

Sweet Rolls

I was about 13 when I started hanging out at my friend Daniel's house. Some of my favorite memories about being there have to do with food. They range from my first taste of inari-sushi, curry-rice, and yokan, to sweet rolls and chocolate cake. Here's my attempt to recreate Maria's recipe, which I used to have and ended up misplacing after moving three times, over two state borders. It's delicious and not too elaborate or time-consuming.
Yield: 18 to 20 rolls.

Ingredients

For the dough:

• 1 pint of lukewarm, whole milk


• 1 envelope of Fleischmann's yeast (not RapidRise)


• 3 eggs beaten


• 3 tablespoons melted, salted butter


• 3 tablespoons granulated sugar


• 1 teaspoon Kosher salt


• "plenty" of King Arthur's all-purpose flour

For rolling:

• 3 tablespoons melted, salted butter


• 1/2 cup granulated sugar

For the glaze:

• 1 cup whole milk


• 2 to 3 tablespoons melted, salted butter

Preparing the dough

In a small bowl, mix together milk, yeast, and sugar. Allow it to get get frothy before proceeding. Move liquid to a large bowl and mix in the eggs and salt. Start adding in the flour a cup at a time, stirring vigorously until the dough starts to take up a ball shape. Move dough to a floured surface and knead for at least 10 minutes adding more flour slowly if too sticky. When you have a smooth, elastic dough, transfer it to a well-oiled bowl and turn the dough around to coat all its surfaces with oil. Cover the bowl with a damp kitchen towel and place it in a draft-free, warm spot; allow dough to rise for about one hour or until it doubles in volume. (I use a lukewarm oven for that.)

Making the rolls

Punch down the dough and divide it up into two pieces. While you work with the first piece, keep the other in the bowl covered with a kitchen towel. Toss flour over you work surface, take your piece of dough and knead it about 4 times. Using a rolling pin, stretch the dough into a square until it's about 1/4 inch thick. Using a pastry brush, spread a good amount of melted butter on the up side of the dough and then sprinkle a thin, even layer of sugar. Working from one of the sides of the square, start rolling the dough (as if you were making a jelly-roll) into a tight cylinder. Use a sharp knife to cut the roll into 3/4 inch pieces and place them on a greased baking sheet. Repeat with the second half of the dough. Leave rolls to rise for 20 minutes. Bake at 400 F until the top of the rolls becomes golden brown.

Glazing

Make the glaze by mixing up the hot milk, the butter, and the sugar. As soon as the rolls come out of the oven, place them on a wire rack and brush each one with a generous amount of the glaze. Allow to rest for five minutes and serve warm.