Today in class, we discussed the various properties of milk (from skim to devonshire cream) and eggs and their uses when preparing custards. Interesting stuff. For example, I didn’t know that if you over beat heavy cream you will end up with butter. You will also end up with quite a bit of whey because cream is somewhere from 36-40% fat. The main point of all this discussion was to learn how dairy and eggs can combine in various ways to produce different textures of custard. Once the lecture was over, we worked on preparing a variety of custards.

I do not like overly rich or creamy desserts. I particularly dislike the unctuous mouthfeel of the ultracreamy variety of dishes we prepared today. This is not to say that they did not taste good, as they were excellent; I simply have no desire to eat these things unless there is something to cut their texture. We made vanilla bean ice cream, butterscotch pudding, chocolate mousse, bread pudding and, of course, crème brûlée. Essentially, cream, butter and cream, cream, cream and egg yolks and cream.

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When I saw Anne’s post for broccoli-lemon risotto, I definately got a craving for risotto. I didn’t really have anything better to do than stand by my stove and stir for 40 minutes tonigh, so I figured that it would be the perfect time to indulge my craving.
I had broccoli in the fridge, but what caught my attention was the bunch of ultra-tender asparagus purchased for Easter that somehow escaped consumption over the weekend. Yum. So I first thought to just substitute asparagus in Anne’s recipe, but I noticed I also didn’t have honey. I didn’t want rice and asparagus. Sure, it would taste fine, but it’s not terribly exciting. Meyer lemon was the answer.
Owen did something similar for an IMBB a couple of months ago, but I don’t own a rice cooker. I knew I would have to improvise. I checked Epicurious for advice/inspiration and ended up with the below recipe for my final result. Less butter, less cheese, more lemon, more goodness.
Overall, I was very pleased with the dish. The cheese didn’t overshadow the lemon, which superbly complimented the asparagus. It was creamy and wonderful.

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Retrospectively, given that I had never made a galette before, I would say that adding one to the Easter brunch menu on Sunday morning, mere hours before the guests arrived, was necessarily the wisest decision. But I was concerned that there wouldn’t be enough food and I wanted to add something savory, as I had the sweet pretty well covered. A galette, I had heard, was easy to make and impressive in its rusticness. I whipped out Baking with Julia, a new acquisition, and flipped through the lovely illustrations until I stopped on her Cheese and Tomato Galette.
I rubbed the butter into a flour and cornmeal mixture to make the dough, nearly panicked because the recipe called for adding rather too much liquid, wrapped it up and stuck it in the fridge. The dough was rolled out, topped with tomatoes, mozzarella and montery jack cheeses (per the recipe) and feta (per me) and slipped into the oven.
It looked flakey and crisp as I sliced it. It disappeared in a matter of seconds from the food table. So why, you may ask, have I not posted the recipe? The reason is simple: I have no idea what it tasted like. It was devoured before I could taste it and, somehow, I didn’t get much feedback on the level of flakiness in the crust or their feelings about the ratios of cheese types from people stuffed on what was previously a delightful looking Easter Spread. “Urmm…” and “Good…” were not the responses I was looking for.
Their kids, however, were slightly more useful.
A thirteen year old: “That looks like something from Gelsons!” Gelson’s is an upscale market.
A sixteen year old: “Did you buy that?” I asked her if she liked it. “I thought it was going to be pizza. But it was good.”
A nine year old, who left the “crust” of one slice untouched: “Did you stuff the crust with cheese?” In a galette, the crust is folded up over part of the filling. Yes, I said. But that’s not pizza. “Oh.” Did he think it was pizza? “It looked like a pizza.” Did you like it? “It was ok. There wasn’t any sauce.”
I suspect that the galette tasted pretty good. I may have over-mixed the crust a bit, but I’ll be making this again. Probably with a different filling. One that doesn’t inherently resemble pizza.

As far as I can tell, the difference between a cinnamon roll and a cinnamon bun is that the latter has some sort of icing, while the former does not. I find this to be somewhat akin to the difference between cupcakes and muffins. While there are plenty of roll recipes, many bun recipes seem to be for “sticky buns”. Now I like a bit of icing, but I don’t like something that I am expected to eat with my hands to be terribly gooey. A little gooey and we can talk…

Easter brunch is a good occasion for cinnamon buns because they can be served at room temperature. Of course they’re best warm, but no one wants to slave over a hot stove making waffles or pancakes when they could be outside enjoying a gorgeous LA morning with friends. At least, I don’t.

I was going for a basic recipe to create a bun that was rich enough, but not so rich that you couldn’t have two. Though I enjoy kneading bread, it isn’t necessary because this recipe uses an electric mixer. I didn’t measure the cinnamon or brown sugar, just sprinkled them directly from their containers until the rough was covered. When I sliced the logs, I threw out the end pieces that didn’t have much cinnamon and were uneven. If I were better at rolling out the dough, I definately could have gotten a couple more buns out of the recipe.

I really loved these. Sweet, cinnamon-y and just sticky enough to give you something to lick off your fingers. The dough didn’t taste quite as rich as a brioche, but still had a feathery crumb and a nice rich taste. This recipe is a keeper! I think that they’re best slightly warm.

These can be kept at room temperature, well wrapped, or frozen. Reheat them in the microwave if you prefer your buns warm and slightly sticky.

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This week I began a baking class at a cooking school here in LA. With all the IMBB excitement, I didn’t have a chance to post about it before now. Funnily enough, this week’s topic was muffins, quick breads and scones.
I wanted to take a professional-type class at a cooking school because I spend so much time baking as it is. I want to be better. Perhaps someday I would consider working my love of baking into a career. Perhaps I just want to make successful, crusty breads at home. I will freely admit that I don’t know what my ultimate goal is - but I’ll take aimless baking while I can get it.
The class is very small and everyone gets to make everything on their own, an advantage that not all schools can offer. This week, my first week, we worked on quick breads and talked about the properties of chemical leaveners. It was a good introduction to their kitchen, as I am already quite familiar with quick breads (having had a fear of yeast for some time). I will note that this was not necessarily the case for everyone in class, as the students range in experience from home cooks who don’t bake to culinary students with their eyes on a career in cooking.
This week, we made Currant Scones, the kind that involve cream and butter, Carrot Cake and Apple Streusel Muffins. With the scones, it was the first time I’ve actually rubbed butter into flour with my fingers instead of using a cutter or a fork. I know it’s a small step, but I was hoping to try some new techniques at school. With strawberry jam, these scones were delicious. The carrot cake was nothing special in my opinion. I couldn’t find the pecans that the recipe called for, so I used walnuts. I’m not a huge fan of nuts in my cake and I would have prefered them to be toasted or not there. The spices came through wonderfully because all the spices we used were fresh ground, while at home I normally only have fresh ground nutmeg.

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When I was little, I believed in the Easter Bunny. I didn’t really believe in it past the age of five, but I wanted to believe. Not that there was some sort of rabbit running around putting candy into my easter basket, but that something magically enabled the candy to be there. I would come down to Easter brunch shouting “The Easter Bunny was here!” and clutching my little basket of goodies. The “Easter Bunny” also hid plastic eggs filled with small candies or coins in my backyard, which my brother and I would race to find. I knew that my father hid the eggs, but it was more fun to pretend.
My little fantasy had to end the year that he forgot to hide the eggs. When I wanted to out on the egg hunt, my dad told me that the Easter Bunny said he needed help and had asked my father to hide the eggs for him. Dad hadn’t quite gotten around to it yet. But all things must come to an end eventually and I still got candy, so I didn’t complain.
I still decorate easter eggs every year. I blow out the eggs so they’ll last then I dye them using food coloring. I like solid colored eggs, but sometimes I make swirled patterns by adding oil to the dye.

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