Tag Archives: butter

Let’s talk about layers

Let’s take a quick break from chocolate to talk about layers. More about texture than taste, layers make things delicious.

For instance, Chinese green onion pancakes: this simple mixture of rice flour, water, salt and green onions is wholly unremarkable on its own. But consider that a great green onion pancake is characterized by a thin, crisp crust and lots of beautiful, flaky layers inside.

I think the ultimate example is baklava. Think about it: layers and layers of filo, each separated by a thin coat of butter, the entire mass drizzled with honey and topped with nuts? And then baked until it rises into a pile of flaky, buttery pastry? Sure, it’s messy to eat, but there’s something about the insane flakiness, tempered with sticky honey, that makes baklava one of the most delightful things on earth.

And for you Vancouverites, a variation on a theme: the pistachio baklava at Mediterranean Specialty Foods is amazing. Imagine a few sheets of filo, each one brushed with butter before the next one goes on. In your mind, take this multi-sheet thing of filo and roll it into a very tight cylinder. Cut the cylinder into small sections, and bring the ends together to make a donut out of the filo. Finally, imagine filling the inside of the donut with honey and toasted pistachios, and baking this creature until it’s golden-brown, crisp, and delicious.

The resulting pastry is so insanely flaky and fragrant that it’s almost heartbreaking. The effect of rolling, rather than stacking, the filo creates the sensation of tens of thousands of layers in your mouth, each one exploding with each bite.

At just over a dollar per piece (I think it’s $1.25 each), it’s an amazingly cheap way to get an epicurian high. And if you’re craving savoury, the spanakopita is the best in the city.

Mediterranean Specialty Foods
1824 Commercial Drive
Vancouver, BC
604-438-4033

The wonder of sponge cake

Genoise is the classic French sponge cake. Its exhaustive list of ingredients includes eggs, sugar and flour. And maybe a wee bit of butter. But that’s it.

Just think for a minute about how amazing that is. Eggs are individually packaged vehicles containing fat and protein. Sugar is a crystalline sweetener that gives nice caramel flavours when it’s heated. Flour is a powdery form of wheat, and provides structural support for most things in the pastry kitchen. Butter is, well, fat.

Under the right circumstances, these ingredients come together to form a complex network of teeny tiny air bubbles.

First, heat eggs and sugar to 45 degrees Celsius, then whisk until cool. This magical temperature is just hot enough to loosen up the proteins in the eggs, but not so hot that you end up with sweet scrambled eggs. With vigorous whisking, this dense, yellow liquid is magically transformed into a pale yellow foam that is twice, sometimes thrice, its original volume. It doesn’t matter how many times I make genoise - the beauty of the foam shocks me every time.

Gently, oh so gently, fold in the flour. This terrifying step is dreaded by most culinary students, since it’s a fine balance of incorporating the flour just so without deflating your egg foam. After a bit of practice, you learn to read the batter. It whispers to you when it’s done – you just have to keep your eyes and ears open. 

If you’re daring, you’ll fold room temperature (not hot, not cold), melted butter into the mix.

But that’s not all. Now you have to gently coax the batter into a prepared pan, and slide it into the oven. All those old-fashioned stories of moms shooing their bouncing kids out of the kitchen when a sponge cake was in the oven? I get it now. Nothing comes between me and my genoise.

After all that, if you’ve done your job properly, it comes out of the oven golden-brown, moist and fragrant. That’s alchemy, if I ever saw it.

NYC: Clinton Street Baking Company

Clinton Street Baking Company
(Lower East Side)

The Clinton Street Baking Company was on my list of places to visit, and I managed to stumble upon it one morning. It was fate.

In fact, it was fate that I would eat one of the most amazing French toast breakfasts I’ve ever had. The French toast was actually thick pieces of rich, eggy brioche. It was lightly pan-fried, and then doused in bourbon-laced caramelized bananas and pecans. As if that weren’t decadent enough, it was served with real maple butter.

They’re also famous for their buttermilk biscuits. Unfortunately, I was so stuffed full of sinfully good breakfast that I didn’t try a biscuit.

It’s a teeny tiny place. If you have the luxury of going during the week, take it. It will be busy then, but nowhere near the madness that weekends probably bring.

Clinton Street Baking Company
4 Clinton St
New York, NY
646-602-6263
Clinton St. Baking Company on Urbanspoon

Pi(e) day: 2 days to go!

Whatever mixture of fats you use in your pie crust, here’s a rule of thumb: keep it cold. Keep shortening in the freezer until you need it, and butter/lard in the fridge until you need it.

Trying to incorporate warm, soft fat into a pie crust will only result in chewy, tough pie crust. If you’re after a flaky crust, then you want to incorporate the fat as small, distinct chunks. If you want to get small, distinct chunks of fat, you’d best work with it cold.

Speaking of which, most recipes call for ice water. It’s not just a conspiracy of recipe writers to make your life more difficult. It’s just a variation on a theme. If you’ve gone to the trouble of selecting your fats, and keeping them cold, why on earth add warm water and cancel out all your efforts?

Just remember: keep it cold.

Pi(e) day: 4 days to go!

Dining Out for Life is this Thursday, March 12, 2009. More than 200 restaurants will donate 25% of their food proceeds to A Loving Spoonful and Friends For Life. I’ll be at the Cascade Room. Where will you dine?

It’s taken me a while, but I’ve figured out the perfect mixture of fats to get a beautiful pie crust.

Shortening is 100% fat and results in unbelievably flaky crusts. Unfortunately, it doesn’t taste very nice. I made a pie with only shortening and found that it left an oily slick on the back of my tongue.

Butter is approximately 35% fat with water suspended in it. It doesn’t give as flaky a crust as shortening, but it sure is tasty. Using only butter, I got a really tasty, but slightly dense pie crust. Also, due to the presence of milk solids and milk sugars in butter, the pie browns a little bit too quickly.

So, the perfect compromise: equal parts shortening and butter.

(FYI: When selecting shortening, read the labels carefully. As evil as Crisco might seem, it contains far less trans fat than some of the so-called “organic” alternatives.)