Gourmet Scientist - Confectionery

Red Bean Mochi

nospam@example.com (Crystal Cheng) — Thu, 03 Jan 2013 04:47:00 -0800

(Sorry for the poor photo!)

For the Japanese, one of the traditional food items eaten around the New Year is mochi, a sweet treat made of glutinous rice. Cooked glutinous rice is pounded with a bit of water to create a sticky dough, and various fillings are then added. The most common is red bean. Here is a video of the mochi-making process in Japan.

As a child, we often picked up one of the larger versions whenever we visited the Japanese supermarket. It was never cheap, but it never occurred to us to try and make it at home. Who would have thought that mochi would be so easy to make?! It's even easier with pre-made filling. Just a few inexpensive ingredients (except the paste filling) and 30-45 minutes can yield what would have cost at least three times to buy pre-made. The texture may not be exactly the same, but it's a fair trade given the recipe's simplicity and low cost. Its definitely worth a try if you like mochi. The variations can then be limitless and tailored to your tastes.

Red Bean Mochi -- Yields 6 large mochi

160g glutinous rice flour
15g sugar
1.4g salt
173g water
Red bean paste

Mix all 4 ingredients together.
Cover and microwave on high for 3 minutes.
Remove and stir with a strong utensil (wooden/metallic spoon, fork, etc).
Cover again and microwave for another 1 minute.
Remove and stir 100 times.
Cover work surface and hands with flour (corn starch, tapioca, etc).
Roll the dough out and separate into equal portions.
Roll the red bean paste into balls of desired size.
Wrap the rice dough over the red bean dough: flatten the rice flour dough, place the red bean paste ball on top, wrap the sides of the flour dough around the red bean ball until fully surrounded.
Roll finished mochi in a bit of flour (corn starch, tapioca, etc). Store in air-tight container and refrigerate.

Spanish Flan

nospam@example.com (Crystal Cheng) — Mon, 07 May 2012 11:41:00 -0700

Several weeks ago, we received another surprise special delivery from our neighbours -- Spanish flan. It was always something that I loved eating, but on this occasion, I could not join in the indulgence. Dairy was a vital ingredient. So instead, I lovingly served it to my husband for his afternoon tea, embellished by the crushed "Crêpes dentelles" (crispy crêpe biscuits) that were delivered alongside the flan. I'd never had such biscuits served with the flan, but I assumed it was given to provide textural contrast. Maybe it's the French version of Spanish flan. But regardless, my husband absolutely adored it, not only because he loves "crêpes dentelles", but also because the flan reminded him of one of his favourite Hong Kong desserts "dun dan" 燉蛋 (steamed egg custard). It was certainly a dish to keep in mind.

Fast forward a few weeks, and I found myself asking my neighbour for the recipe. My husband was due to have his wisdom tooth extracted, and I thought that this would be the perfect afternoon tea for him as it required (nearly) no chewing whatsoever. I also happened to have a can of evaporated whole milk leftover from visiting guests, which I thought could be used instead of regular milk. I wasn't sure how it turn out, if it'd be too rich and unedible, as I only knew of using evaporated milk in cakes. I did add additional water it down a bit as it was less than the amount of liquid required in the recipe.

The aroma emanating from the oven was tantalising. It almost smelled cake-like. When I unmolded it the next day, I found that there were more bubbles present than I would have liked (even though I tried mixing gently and removed all extraneous bubbles), but my husband approved it fully, evaporated milk and bubbles. I'll certainly go back to regular milk when I next make it (evaporated milk seems like too much of an indulgence), but I just might investigate making "dun dan" at some point again.

Addition: I tried the recipe again using whole milk, dropped the temperature down to 150°C (300°F), and increased the baking time by ~15 minutes. The resulting flan, according to my husband, tasted just as good, if not the same, as the evaporated milk version. As for decreasing the oven temperature, there were significantly less bubbles in the flan. The recipe below has been adjusted accordingly.

Spanish Flan

The caramel and sugary milk can be made using only one pot. This can recycle some of the caramel that will be unavoidedly left in the pot. The following recipe has been re-organised to reflect that. Otherwise, if you happen to have a casserole dish that can withstand stove and oven heat, even less caramel can be wasted if you make the caramel base directly in the casserole dish, then allow to cool a bit (to prevent dangerous splashing) before pouring the warmed milk directly over the caramel.

Caramel

30g white sugar
2 tbsp water

Pudding

500 mL milk (whole, semi, so skim)
80g raw (brown) sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract
3 whole eggs

Caramel. Heat sugar with water on medium heat. Leave untouched until colour turns golden. Begin stirring a bit to fully dissolve all sugar particles (some may have solidified above the bubbles). Continue monitoring until colour reaches light brown to brown. Process can take up to 10-15 minutes, maybe less, depending on the heat of the stove and heat conduction of vessel holding the caramel.
Remove from heat and immediately transfer caramel into oven-safe container, unless you are using the container itself to prepare caramel.
Preheat oven to 150°C (300°F).
Pudding. Pour milk, sugar, and vanilla extract into same cooking pot that was used to make caramel (if you made the caramel directly in the container to be used for baking, then use a separate pot). Continuously stir on medium heat until sugar is fully dissolved. This should not take too long, and milk should only be slightly warm to the touch. You will know that the sugar has fully dissolved when you no longer hear or feel grains at the bottom of the pot while stirring. Remove from heat.
Gently beat the 3 eggs in a separate container.
Pour the sugary milk into the beaten eggs in a continuous stream while beating gently with a whisk.
Pour mixture into container with caramel.
Place container with flan mixture in a water bath in the oven and bake for 45 minutes. Turn oven off and leave untouched for an additional 30 minutes.
Remove flan from oven, allow to cool, before placing in the fridge overnight to set. Unmold the next day.

Calissons of Aix-en-Provence

nospam@example.com (Crystal Cheng) — Thu, 22 Sep 2011 14:01:00 -0700

Blessing of the calissons at the Church of Saint Jean de Malte (left), and Master Patissiers with a statue of the
Virgin Mary and Child atop a box of calissons (right), © Photos courtesy of Aix City Local News

Every first Sunday in September, a very peculiar tradition takes place in Aix-en-Provence, France: the blessing (bénédiction) of the "calissons". This year marks the 16th anniversary.

Historically, the tradition stems from the plague of the Middle Ages. At its peak, little niches housing statues (called "oratories") of the Virgin Mary and Child were placed at the corners of buildings so that people could "attend mass" from the windows of their home. By the 1600s, even the Parliament and Magistrates of Provence had left the city, and only the provost, consul, and assessor remained. On 30th January 1630, the assessor Martelly held a large mass in dedication of the Virgin of the Seds, the patron saint of Aix, and vowed to offer thanksgiving every year after. For this reason, every 1st September, the bells of the city were rung in honour of this vow. As the calissons were used as communion wafers, they became associated with this annual commemoration of the plague.

Calissons are almond-shaped confectionaries made from ground almond paste, melons, and orange peel. Icing sugar glazes the top and a communion wafer covers the bottom. Other flavours can be found, including lavender, vanilla, fig, and chocolate, but they remain on the foundation of the marzipan, melon, and orange peel.

Their origin, of course, remains a mystery. Versions similar to the calissons existed as far back as the 12th century in Italy and Crete, but the most popular story traced their introduction to Provence to 1473, at the wedding feast of King Réné and his second wife, Jeanne De Laval. The more accepted story was the 16th century, when almond trees were introduced to Provence, and the almond trade flourished. By the 20th century, Aix became the capital of almond trade. At the nearby city of Cavaillon, a similar name was developing for its melons.

Calissons at the market

For this reason, the calisson can be seen as a celebration of Provence: almonds of Aix and melons of Cavaillon. An authentic calisson must be made from local Provençal ingredients. The almonds are blanched, ground with crystallised melons, and blended with fruit syrup; they are then molded into its almond shape before the communion wafer base and sugar icing glaze are added.

Currently, over 50% of calisson production originates in Aix. However, its name remains unprotected, and replicas, whether authentic or not, carrying the name "Calissons d'Aix en Provence" can be seen worldwide. As a result, a request for "Protected Geographical Indication" status (briefly explained in my blog post about the "Appellation d'Origine Controlée") has been sent, but its approval remains uncertain.

Traditionally clothed Aixois passing out calissons to the onlooking public, © Photo courtesy of Aix City Local News

For now, the calisson remains closely tied to Aix-en-Provence, and on the first Sunday of September every year, a parade of people dressed in traditional Provençal clothing playing traditional instruments congregate at the Cathedral of Saint Saveur, where the bells toll according to the vow of assessor Martelly. The group along with master patissiers carrying a statue of the Virgin Mary and Child atop a box of calissons continue their march towards the Church of Saint Jean de Malte where the calissons are blessed. At the end, at the fountain of Quatre Dauphins, the calissons are distributed to the attending public.

The calissons may be a small and simple treat, but its history and significance stem back many centuries.

(If interested, a video of the blessing can be found at the official site of the event: http://www.benediction-calisson.com/accueil-1.html)

Composed with the assistance of the official site of the Bénédiction des Calissons d'Aix-en-Provence, the official guide to Aix-en-Provence by the Office of Tourism, newspaper articles from Direct Aix and Aix City Local News, and the internet article "Calisson" by K. Kradel

Chocolate Glazing: Cream versus Sugar

nospam@example.com (Crystal Cheng) — Sat, 04 Apr 2009 08:44:00 -0700

Chocolate Sugar Glazing

I was just watching how to make the Viennese Sachertorte on Epicurious' Around the World in 80 Dishes. First of all, I may regret even more not trying the Sachertorte while I was in Austria. My impression of Sachertorte has been a dense, rich, and fairly sweet and chocolately cake; but this was based on what I've encountered in the US. Seeing what is apparently the authetic recipe, it doesn't seem quite as dense and rich. As I've learned, exported recipes are usually never as good.

Chocolate Ganache Glazing

But what piqued my interest was the chocolate glaze the recipe used. I've always thought any chocolate glazing or filling would be a ganache, a rich mixture typically composed of chocolate and cream. Most might know it as the basic filling for chocolate truffles. The chocolate glaze used for the sachertorte is only composed of chocolate, sugar, and water. I'd venture to say it's chocolate flavoured fondant?? It's probably better without the cream--cuts down on the richness--although it'd be quite sweet? I'm now curious how the two differ in taste. I think I might know as I'm recalling some of the glazings I may have mis-identified as ganache. The next question is then when do you use either. Of course, that probably depends on what you want: creamier (ganache) or sweeter (sugar glaze); or dietary requirements (non-dairy), available ingredients, etc... Anyone have any input??

Honey

nospam@example.com (Crystal Cheng) — Sun, 29 Mar 2009 15:46:00 -0700

In less than a year, after being stung by a rather lovely flying bumble bee, I've consumed so much honey that I'm most likely now a target of both mosquitoes and bees (I can be a natural mosquito repellent for others--a human mosquito pin-cushion with at least 20 bites per leg). I never knew honey could be eaten straight. I rarely consumed it, and it was always just another ingredient in food, sweets, or beverage. Now, after tasting the real thing, I'm hard-pressed to go back to the synthetic taste of mass-produced honey!

As with tea, coffee, chocolate, and wine, honey can be as varied in flavour and texture. So far, I've noticed 2 major flavour types--floral and woodsy--and texture can range from runny, to gloopy-thick, to a mix of runny and set, to completely set. Amazingly, I've had (full containers of) English lime-flavoured clover, acacia (English), Australian eucalyptus, Mexican wildflower, pine (French), buckwheat (!), African Miombo forest, clover (American), Menalou vanilla fur (x2), and Tasmanian leatherwood. I've also tried mountain (French) and chestnut (English).

The most bizzare was the buckwheat not only for the unfamiliar concept of honey coming from a wheat plant but also for the rather odd smell; but the taste is completely different. Even simply having the honey alone or mixing it with water can draw out further contrasts.

I seem to prefer honey with a woodsy flavour. The pine one is marvelous, and it's the one that really triggered my honey exploration. The vanilla fur is very gentle and reminds me a lot of candy. As for the Tasmanian leatherwood, it's very sweet!

I do have to say, scenes from the "Bee Movie" often come to mind. I don't want to be another heartless consumer, but at least it does make you appreciate honey all the more. The next question is: should I thank the bee or not for its sali[a]nt sting??

Crème de Marrons

nospam@example.com (Crystal Cheng) — Sat, 21 Mar 2009 21:53:51 -0700

Breakfast biscuits

I've just returned from a week-long trip to Paris on a short language exchange program with my department. I didn't manage to try anything fancy nor embark on a pastry/confectionary/chocolate tasting, but I did enjoy a few nice meals encompassing french onion soup, grilled lamb, steak au poivre, steak au roquefort, frites, smoked fish salad, chocolate mousse, and the obligatory baguettes and sandwiches. =) I also came across the breakfast biscuits that my friend introduced to me when I visited her 2 years ago in Montpellier, France.

Still, I did learn of one new item: crème de marrons (chestnut cream). I'd just read about it on Tartlette's blog, and fortunately enough, it was offered as one of the toppings for our first convivial meal of homemade savoury and sweet crepes. One bite and I was instantly hooked. It was a creamy paste of roasted chestnut flavour with a hint of sweetness. I'd only recently learned of the joy of roasted chestnut, and this was even better as it eliminated the work of roasting and cracking the nuts and there was the added tinge of sweetness. It's just as bad as nutella, as I can eat it straight out of the can! Too bad I only bought one small one for myself...