Showing posts with label madeleines. Show all posts
Showing posts with label madeleines. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Vanilla Rose-Petal Madeleines . . .


My bakery merchandising class, which just ended last week, was interesting, fun, and a lot of work. One of my final projects involved baking, packaging, displaying, and promoting a selection of madeleines to be sold in the culinary school's retail bakery. We were allowed to make just about anything we wanted to, with our teacher's approval, and most of the items we created sold really well. There were neopolitan marshmallows, chocolate dipped meringue cookies, coconut macaroons, small decorated layer cakes, three-dimensional cookies that looked like the Eiffel tower, mocha brownie whoopie pies, petit fours, and mini-tarts. Along with all of that was the usual bakery fare--breads, pies, pastries, cookie bars, you name it. In light of all that was offered, I was astonished that the madeleines, which were packed in small boxes of six, sold out in a couple of hours. Because of their out of the ordinary flavor profiles I expected they might not fly off the shelf, but luckily that wasn't the case.


I made three varieties--honey and lavender (made with dried culinary lavender and mild clover honey), orange blossom (made with orange blossom honey, orange flower water, and orange zest), and vanilla rose petal. After baking about 150 of the petite and tender cakes, I lightly glazed them and, once dry, carefully tucked them into boxes atop a frilly paper doily. The boxes were tied with narrow organdy ribbon (lavender, pale orange, or pink, depending on the flavor) and each was given a pretty label. They were on sale in conjunction with a festive Paris-themed dinner that was open to the public.

 

Have you ever made madeleines? They're simple to prepare but have their own idiosyncrasies and, contrary to what one might think, the assortment of recipes available to make them is pretty diverse. Some formulas make a big point of requiring that you chill the batter for hours, while others don't bother with this step at all. Some emphasize egg yolks, while others may require beaten egg whites. Some say that almond flour is de rigeur, others don't even bring the topic up.

And then there's the controversial hump on the back of the madeleine: does its presence signal a better madeleine, or is the debate just a tempest in a teapot? I guess it's cute . . . as bumps, humps, and lumps on cakes or cookies go . . . but why all the hoopla? I cranked out many experimental batches of madeleines over the last several weeks and, as far as I can tell, that little hump--present or not--doesn't impact taste or texture one iota. In my humble opinion, you haven't failed if your madeleines don't emerge looking pregnant on one side, so don't worry. (Today's recipe is non-hump, just fyi.)

About this recipe . . . 

Adapted from a plain madeleine recipe found in the Cook's Illustrated website, this gives you a soft little cake. The use of dried rose petals, along with rose water, was my idea; I am crazy about them. They both smell so beautiful. I ordered these dried culinary roses from an organic farm in Ohio, and they were remarkably inexpensive. To grind them finely, I pulsed them in a clean, small, coffee grinder that I often use as a spice grinder.


Have you ever baked with roses or rose water? No doubt about it, they don't show up in typical American baking very often, but they're absolutely worth a try. To the uninitiated, their perfume may seem startling. And it feels strange, at first, to put something that smells so floral into food (also true for orange flower water, or lavender), but it's the purity of the scent that wins you over. They smell like the genuine essence of the flower itself, not soapy or synthetic. Use each sparingly, as a little of either ingredient goes an extremely long way.

Madeleines are good with a cup of tea, it's true. Bite into one, take a nice hot sip of tea, and let your thoughts drift like Marcel Proust's. Perhaps you'll evoke an "involuntary memory," something wonderful from your childhood, all prompted by the mysterious taste of a flowery madeleine.


Vanilla Rose-Petal Madeleines
(For a printable version of this recipe, click here!)

Yield: 12 large madeleines

Carefully butter and flour a 12-cavity madeleine pan. (I use inexpensive pans from a company called Fox Run; they work just fine. I butter and flour more than just the cavities. To be entirely on the safe side I prep the entire top of the pan. Biggest potential problem with madeleines is getting them out of the pan. Take no chances!)

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Ingredients for batter:
2 large egg yolks, not cold
1 large whole egg, not cold
1/4 granulated sugar
3/4 tsp. rose water
3/4 tsp. vanilla extract
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 cup cake flour
1 pinch kosher salt


3/4 tsp. crushed or ground culinary rose petals (dried)
1/4 cup melted butter, not hot

Ingredients for glaze:
Approximately 1 cup confectioners' sugar, sifted
1 to 2 tsp. crushed rose petals
1 tsp. rose water, or adjust amount to taste
About 2 Tbsp. plain water (more or less depending on how thick you want your glaze)

To make the batter:
In a medium bowl, sift together the flours, salt, and ground rose petals. Set aside.

Using the whip attachment on your mixer, beat the egg yolks, whole egg, vanilla, and rose water on medium-high speed until frothy and fluffy, about three minutes. Slowly pour in the sugar, beating on medium-high speed for about five minutes or more, until you can see a ribbon of batter in the bowl when you stop the mixer and and lift the whip attachment. The batter should be very light and fluffy.



Take the bowl off the mixer. Gradually fold in the dry ingredients using a spatula. Fold very gently and carefully.


 Then do the same with the melted butter.



Spoon the batter evenly into the madeleine pan, filling the cavities all the way. It's okay if the batter mounds over the top a bit. Don't bother smoothing the batter; you don't want to deflate it, and it will smooth out on its own in the oven.


Place the pan on the middle rack and bake for about 10 minutes, or until golden and the madeleines spring back when lightly pressed.

Spread out a clean dishcloth on your work surface. When the madeleines come out of the oven, turn them out right onto the dishcloth. You need to get them out of the pans while they're still very hot. Do not let them cool in the pans.



While they're still warm, glaze them. Make the glaze by whisking the sifted confectioners' sugar with the crushed rose petals. Stir in rose water and plain water and keep stirring until the glaze is lump free. I think it's best to make the glaze pretty thin. The madeleines are delicate when warm, so they're easily broken. The heavier the glaze, the more likely they'll be damaged. I glaze mine by holding some glaze in a large spoon over a small bowl of glaze, and I dip just the shell-shaped top in the glaze.



Let the glazed madeleines dry on the dishcloth. Store them tightly covered after they're dry and fully cooled. They're best when very fresh, but are pretty good for about the first two days.


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Saturday, January 8, 2011

Orange Blossom Madeleines . . . Are They On Your List?


This seems to be the time of year for lists. Lists of what we'd like to change, what we want to try, lists of last year's best and worst--you name it, someone's got a list for it. I had a list of bread and pastry items I wanted to make, along with a list of unusual ingredients I wanted try, and I managed to cross quite a few things off over the last twelve months.


One of the items on my 2010 list of  baked goods, that I had intended to make at home but never got around to, were madeleines--those spongy little French cookies/cakes that novelist Marcel Proust immortalized almost 100 years ago. Why I never got around to doing it last year I can hardly fathom; they're not difficult or complicated. But as my 83  year-old dad enjoys pointing out, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. (He typically says this with a half-smile, as if he secretly believes it's one of the funniest aphorisms he's ever heard but isn't sure he should let on.)


Hard to argue with the philosophical truth of a statement like that, but I did at least manage to make madeleines in school a couple of times last year. Still, I never feel like I've made something on my own until I've done it at home, without a white-garbed professional chef hovering nearby. There's all manner of support and oversight in my baking and pastry classes but there's nothing whatsoever to fall back on at home. That's why it's often far scarier for me to embark on an intimidating recipe while I'm in my own kitchen than it is to do so in a culinary classroom.



Luckily, madeleines require nothing in the way of back-up and they shouldn't strike fear in even the most rudimentary baker's heart. In fact, they can be whipped up inside of an hour without the least stress or strain. No need for even an electric hand mixer. All you need is a bowl, a whisk, and maybe a pen so you can cross this one off of your list, too!



About this recipe . . . 

This recipe is from Nick Malgieri's book, Cookies Unlimited. (And you know how I love his books--they've never let me down, not once.) I changed it only by adding in a bit of orange blossom honey and I reworded the instructions, throwing in my own two cents, as usual.



If you don't have any orange flower water on hand, don't worry about it, but if you can get your hands on a bottle, I recommend you use it. Why? Because it's captivating. Its fragrance is perfume-like and slightly off-putting at first, especially when you consider that it's going to be added to food. But taste a couple drops before you decide against its use. The flavor, once it has a moment to rest on your tongue, reveals its origin in orange blossoms. It's like a beautiful potion. Even the bottle is pretty. I think you need to try it in 2011. So there.



Orange Blossom Madeleines
(For a printable version of this recipe, click here!)

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Butter and flour the cavities in a madeleine pan. This recipe makes at least 12 large madeleines, with a little batter left over.  (If you have two pans, I'd suggest you prepare both of them.)

2 large eggs, room temperature (Warm your eggs by placing them in their shells in a bowl of very warm water for a few minutes; works wonders.)
1 pinch salt (I used regular salt.)
1/2 cup granulated sugar, minus 1 Tbsp.
1 Tbsp. orange blossom honey
Finely grated zest of 1 large orange
1 tsp. orange flower water (Okay to leave out if you don't have it. Could substitute a tiny bit of orange extract instead.)
1 cup all-purpose flour (Malgieri's recipe doesn't dictate that you sift, but I siftted.)
8 Tbsp. (1 stick) unsalted butter, melted (But not hot!)
Confectioners' sugar for finishing (You'll need just a couple tablespoons, really.)

In a medium sized bowl, using a hand whisk, beat the eggs and salt until they're bubbly; this should take only about 15 seconds.



In a thin stream, whisk in the sugar. Whisk in the zest, and orange flower water, then the honey.

Fold in the flour using a rubber spatula, then add in the melted butter, folding until well combined.




Use a large spoon (Malgieri recommends a soup spoon) to fill the cavities of the prepared pan about 2/3 of the way full.  


Bake the madeleines until they've risen, feel firm to the touch, and are lightly golden. Immediately remove the madelienes from the pan; they'll fall right out when you turn it over. 



Put them on a rack to cool. Dust them very lightly with confectioners sugar before serving.





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