Last summer I watched a live-stream cooking demonstration hosted by Certified Master Chef Edward Leonard, Corporate Executive Chef for Le Cordon Bleu cooking schools in the U.S. One of the dishes he prepared was an amuse-bouche that paired strawberries with avocados – an intriguing flavour combination I had never seen before.
In North America, avocados are usually used in savoury preparations (the most well-known of which is guacamole) but in other countries like Brazil and the Philippines, avocados are a dessert ingredient. In Indonesia, they even make avocado milkshakes by blending the bright green fruit with ice cream, then drizzling it with chocolate syrup!
In this recipe, I’ve used Chef Leonard’s imaginative flavour duo for inspiration but put a sweeter spin on it to create Strawberries with Avocado-Mint Mousse.
Strawberries with Avocado-Mint Mousse
Recipe Type: Dessert
Author: Laura Leigh Goyer
Prep time: 15 mins
Total time: 15 mins
Serves: 24
Inspired by Certified Master Chef Edward Leonard, Le Cordon Bleu
Ingredients
2 tbsp hazelnuts
2 avocados
Juice from 1 lime
1 Tbsp fresh mint
4 tbsp berry sugar (extra-fine granulated, also known as castor sugar)
3 tbsp water
1 pint strawberries
icing sugar (optional)
Instructions
Place hazelnuts in a single layer in a small skillet. Toast over medium heat for 5 to 7 minutes, until they are fragrant. Remove from pan and let cool, then chop coarsely.
Cut avocados in half. Remove pits. Scoop flesh into blender or food processor.
Immediately add the lime juice to prevent the avocado from turning brown.
Add fresh mint leaves, sugar and water.
Puree until silky smooth. Spoon avocado purée into a pastry bag. Set aside.
Wash strawberries. Use a Parisian scoop to remove the hull. Set cut side down on paper towels for about 5 minutes.
Pipe avocado purée into hollowed out strawberries.
Arrange in a serving dish. Sprinkle with chopped hazelnuts and dust with icing sugar (if desired).
Notes
You can prepare the mousse and the strawberries ahead of time, but wait until just before serving to fill them.
2.2.8
When I first took a bite of one of these juicy strawberries, the sweet burst of buttery, minty, avocado surprised me. (I can’t remember ever having eaten a filled strawberry.) The crunchy hazelnuts gave a nice contrast to the silky texture of the mousse, and all the flavours blended together very well.
Strawberries with Avocado-Mint Mousse are very simple to prepare, super healthy, and make the most of the season’s beautiful berries.
“Good cooking is the foundation of true happiness.” ~ Auguste Escoffier
Last fall I went on an incredible 17-day adventure to Paris, and like most first-time visitors to the City of Light, I hit all the major attractions. I stood in line for hours to ride the elevator up to the second level of the Eiffel Tower, admired the spectacular view, and then took the stairs all the way back down. The famous women residing at the Louvre mesmerized me, the Venus de Milo and the Mona Lisa, and I was so overwhelmed by the museum’s vast collection that I went back again a few days later to spend more time there. I took a day-trip to Versailles where I marvelled at the excesses of Louis XIV and his Court. I made the pilgrimage to Notre Dame, Saint-Sulpice, Saint Eustache, Sacré Coeur, La Madeleine and Sainte-Chapelle where the spectacular stained glass windows left me dazzled. I smiled at the mimes in Montmartre before going to pay my respects at Jim Morrison’s grave and Napoleon’s tomb. I strolled along the banks of the Seine during the day, and at night I joined the throng of pedestrians parading down the Champs-Élysées. I climbed 284 steps to the top of the Arc de Triomphe, then gaped at the sight of the traffic below. I had never seen an aerial view of a traffic circle before, let alone one with eight-lanes, or one where the cars entering the roundabout have the right away – a scene I can only describe as complete chaos!
Notre Dame de Paris
I ate ice cream from Berthillon, falafel on Rue des Rosiers, macarons from Ladurée, and more pain au chocolate than I’d like to admit. I also ate the sweetest, juiciest slice of cantaloupe I’d ever tasted, directly from the knife blade of a burly vendor in the Bastille Market. But I didn’t have any of these things in mind when I booked my trip to Paris. All I could think about was indulging my fascination with the art of French culinary technique.
My first lesson took place at La Cuisine Paris where I got my feet wet learning how to cook duck confit from an English-speaking American chef. From there, I progressed to the venerable Le Cordon Bleu where I attended two wonderful culinary demonstrations, both taught by a French chef with full translation to English. In the first class at Le Cordon Bleu, we learned about pairing French food and wine, and in the second we learned how to use classic French culinary technique to transform seasonal market fresh food into an elegant feast. And finally, I graduated to the École Ritz Escoffier, the epitome of haute cuisine, for my last lesson.
Mural in the kitchen at the École Ritz Escoffier
The 4 hour culinary workshop took place on a Saturday afternoon in October, in the kitchens deep below the Hôtel Ritz Paris. Chef David Goulaze spoke only French as he guided the class through a menu of seasonal recipes. The chef’s assistant, Sophie, provided some translation but she had plenty of other responsibilities that kept her busy (setting the table, uncorking the wine, assisting Chef David) and she was often out of the kitchen. Even if she weren’t, it would have been impossible for her to translate verbatim since Chef David never stopped talking long enough to give her the chance. This wasn’t a problem for most of the students since the class was predominately French-speaking. Only myself and a young couple from London didn’t speak the language. If I were to take a guess, I would say that only about 20% of what the chef said was actually translated for the benefit of the English-speaking students.
We prepared the meal much like a kitchen brigade where each student assumed responsibility for certain tasks. Unbeknownst to me, the cutting board you positioned yourself behind at the beginning of the class determined which tasks you would inevitably be assigned. I had unwittingly volunteered for the role of garçon de cuisine (kitchen boy) when I chose to stand by a bowl of apples and a hotel pan filled with potatoes.
Having lived in the Okanagan Valley for the last twelve years, I was reasonably sure I knew my way around an apple, but I was wrong. Once I had removed the peel and sliced the apples in half, Chef David showed me how to use a cuillère Parisienne to spoon out the core. (In my life B.P.* I referred to this little tool as a melon baller.) The Parisienne spoon left a very small and tidy hole where the core had been.
I had also walked into the Ritz somewhat confident with my potato-peeling skills but Chef David still found a thing or two to teach me about spuds. In rapid-fire French, he explained how to trim the peeled potatoes into tournés. I didn’t understand a word he said but I watched spellbound as he carved a perfect barrel-shaped potato with seven sides and two evenly pointed ends. He demonstrated just once and then moved on to help the next student. Sophie explained that I should copy his potato so that all the vegetables were exactly the same size, ensuring even cooking while being aesthetically pleasing to the eye. It took me most of the afternoon to turn that pan of potatoes into little torpedoes.
While I whittled away, the students who had positioned themselves near the mushrooms focused on preparing the appetizer. At one point, we all stopped what we were doing to watch Chef David give a very lengthy lesson on the intricate folds and turns required to make puff pastry.
Chef David also demonstrated how to mince shallots…
And gave a lesson on butterflying Guinea Fowl breasts…
Déguste sur place (dine after cooking)…
Menu d’Automne
Tart with Wild Mushrooms, Goat Cheese and Walnuts
Stuffed Guinea Fowl with Yesteryear Vegetables
Roasted Apple with Prune Armagnac Ice Cream
Tart with Wild Mushrooms, Goat Cheese and Walnuts
We started off our Autumn feast with puff pastry tarts filled with a mixture of goat cheese, cream, eggs, chopped walnuts and nutmeg, topped with sautéed mushrooms, then baked until golden. We paired the tart with a teacup filled with creamy mushroom soup that the chef improvised from some of the leftover mushrooms. I imagine French children grow up eating this stuff, much like American kids eat canned tomato soup, but to me it tasted very French and very exotic. It was rich and satisfying beyond belief. I only wish the soup had actually been on the menu because then it would have also been included in the recipe booklet.
Stuffed Guinea Fowl and Yesteryear Vegetables
To make the main course, we prepared a farce of chicken meat, egg white, cream, brandy and finely chopped pistachios, and then used it to stuff butterflied Guinea Fowl breasts. Using a farce (also called forcemeat stuffing) is a classic French culinary technique where you basically stuff meat with meat (or in this case, poultry with poultry). Once stuffed, Chef browned the fowl in a sauté pan then braised it in ruby port, veal stock and aromatics.
The yesteryear vegetables fascinated me – a strange-looking collection of root vegetables including parsnip chervil, Jerusalem artichokes, Chinese artichokes, salsify and the more familiar carrots and potatoes – cooked using a method called blanc de cuisson, or white cooking. (If you look at the photo above at about 7:00 o’clock you can see my contribution to the dish, one of my ‘turned’ potatoes.)
Roasted Apple with Prune Armagnac Ice Cream
For dessert, we poached the apples I had prepped in simple syrup for about 5 minutes, then rolled them in warm honey and roasted them in the oven for another 8 minutes. We also made ice cream flavoured with Armagnac and dried prunes. Although this was a simple dessert, the taste was incredible! Back in the real world, I probably wouldn’t garnish each plate with an entire vanilla bean and a handmade chocolate, but on this day at least, we were dining at the Ritz!
After dinner, Chef David called each of us forward to present us with our Certificates. It was the only time in my life I’d heard my given name pronounced with three syllables, and I loved it!
My Saturday at the Ritz was as much a cultural experience as it was a culinary one. Julia Child once said that “in France, cooking is a serious art form and a national sport”, and that was certainly the case with this group. Every time Chef David asked for a volunteer, people clamoured over each other for the opportunity. When it came to cooking, there wasn’t a timid soul in the entire class. The students approached their tasks with confidence and seemed to feed off of the Chef’s exuberance, creating an atmosphere that was energetic and at times even a little chaotic. I was most surprised when we sat down to eat, and dinner genuinely felt like a family affair. Everyone ate with great gusto while they carried on animated conversations peppered with plenty of laughter. My dinner companions passed the bread basket often and kept my wine glass filled throughout the meal.
“Food is our common ground, a universal experience.” ~ James Beard
There were times during the day that I felt like I was in over my head, but that had more to do with my inability to understand French than my lack of culinary skill. I probably wouldn’t recommend this class to beginners and I would also hesitate to recommend it to anyone who doesn’t speak the language, but knowing now what I didn’t know then, would I do it again? Absolutely!
*B.P. = BEFORE PARIS
The Ritz Escoffier School of French Gastronomy
15, Place Vendôme
75001 Paris
Samedi Du Ritz ~ Menu d'Automne
Date: October 8, 2011
Cost: 150.00 €
Style: Déguste sur place (Dine after cooking)
Duration: 4 hours
Chef Instructor: David Goulaze
Highlights: The best meal I have ever eaten. Period.
Improvement Opportunities: I wish they would get rid of the music on
their website. If you visit their homepage with your speakers up,
don't say I didn't warn you.
“In France, cooking is a serious art form and a national sport.” - Julia Child
My nights in Paris were a lot quieter than my days. The charming flat I had rented was in a beautiful old 18th century building and although it had been recently renovated, the amenities did not include the latest electronics. In fact, it didn’t even include a television. I knew this in advance but wasn’t concerned about it since I had brought my laptop along, but then the first time I plugged it in blue sparks came shooting out of the electrical outlet. I must have bought the wrong type of adapter. I didn’t have enough courage to go shopping for electrical gadgets in a country where I didn’t speak the language, and I didn’t want to risk burning down a piece of history, so I decided to just put the laptop away for the rest of my stay.
I was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed spending my evenings unplugged. Most nights I didn’t get home until 10:00 or 11:00 pm, and by the time I climbed up the escargot-shaped stairway to my little retreat I was usually so tired that it was all I could do to open a cold beer, prop my aching feet on a bag of frozen hash browns, and map out my route for the following day. On those rare occasions when I could keep my eyes open, I curled up in my bed and lost myself in a good book. The night that I attended my first culinary demonstration at Le Cordon Bleu was one of those rare occasions.
With my impressions of that iconic institution still so fresh in my mind, I picked up Kathleen Flinn‘s memoir The Sharper Your Knife, the Less You Cry: Love, Laughter, and Tears in Paris at the World’s Most Famous Cooking School, and continued reading where I had left off. Kathleen is one of my personal heroes. At the age of 36, she cashed in her life savings and moved to Paris to pursue her lifelong dream of attending Le Cordon Bleu. After earning her Cuisine diploma, she wrote about her experience, drawing on over 600 pages of notes and 120 hours of audio recordings. In one of my favourite parts of the book, Kathleen tells the story of a particularly challenging day at the school when the fish recipe she recreated was harshly criticized by one of the teaching chefs. After class she packed up her second-rate hake, brushed away her tears and set out for the Metro station and the long ride home. Within a block from the school, she saw a homeless man sitting on the sidewalk. She decided to offer him the fish that she now felt so much animosity towards. He accepted her gift, reached inside the bag, tore off a piece, popped it in his mouth and then proceeded to tell her it needed more salt! It would seem that being wealthy, pretentious or a member of the upper class are not necessary prerequisites for having an impeccable palate – at least not in Paris.
The next morning as I walked along rue Léon Delhomme to my second culinary demonstration at Le Cordon Bleu, I realized I was looking for him – “the smartest man in the world” that Kathleen had written about in her book. Would he still be there three years later, sitting on the side of the street enjoying haute cuisine hand-outs from dejected culinary students? I secretly hoped so. After all he was a bit of a celebrity. I was disappointed that I didn’t see him and couldn’t help but wonder what had become of him, but I didn’t have long to dwell on it because unlike the previous evening, I had arrived at Le Cordon Bleu with just moments to spare.
In the second session there was a smaller group of students gathered in a larger classroom. I grabbed a seat at the front of the room and was pleased to see that Chef Marc Thivet would once again be instructing. The same culinary student who had assisted him the night before was also back, and the two of them were joined by another student who would be doing the translating.
THE PARIS MARKET MENU
The menu for the demonstration was not set until after the Chef had visited the food markets earlier that day. In other words, he chose the food before the recipes, based on what was fresh, in season and perhaps even on sale. This in itself was a lesson for me since I tend to do the complete opposite. I find a recipe I want to try, make a list of ingredients and then go grocery shopping.
Risotto aux Girolles et Copeaux de Parmesan
The first dish we learned to make was the entrée (appetizer), a wonderful Risotto with Golden Chanterelle Mushrooms and Parmesan Shavings. I’ve made risotto before but not with the care and attention that went into this version. When chefs talk about cooking with love, what they’re really talking about is putting time and effort into a dish, about not taking shortcuts. Chef Marc certainly put a lot of love into his risotto. First, he hand-washed each chanterelle and then peeled the stems so they would be extra tender. He sautéed them in butter until they were golden brown, then strained them and reserved the liquid so he could add all that flavour back into the risotto later on. He rinsed the Arborio rice under a cold tap until the water was no longer cloudy. At that point he added the rice to a sauté pan of finely diced onions softened in olive oil, and let it toast for a few minutes. Once the rice started to smell like popcorn, he added the first of many ladles full of chicken stock to the pan. Chef cooked the risotto gently over low heat and stirred it often.
Here are a few of Chef Marc’s rules for making risotto:
Always use a sauté pan.
Always stir with a rubber spatula.
Risotto waits for no one. Do not let it sit and do not reheat it.
Wait until the risotto is fully cooked and has been removed from the heat before adding any seasoning.
In addition, he shared some general rules that apply to all cuisine:
Always serve hot food on a hot plate.
Always use all 4 burners on your stove, even when you are only cooking with one pan. Turn one burner on high, another to medium, the third one to low and leave the last one off, and always use the same arrangement. Then control the heat by moving the pot between the burners.
Le Cordon Bleu ovens and cook tops are electric as opposed to gas, for obvious safety reasons.
Roti de Lotte et Mousseline de Pommes de Terre aux Parfums du Sud, Ail et Persil en Crème
For the main, Chef Marc showed us how to make Roast Monkfish served with Basil Infused Potato Mousseline and a Creamy Garlic and Parsley Sauce. This recipe actually consisted of six mini recipes, and if that weren’t complex enough, recipes from Le Cordon Bleu aren’t recipes as you and I know them. They are just a list of principal ingredients followed by a list of decorations. No cooking times or temperatures, no method, no technique, no instructions. Just a list of ingredients with the quantities given in metric. It’s up to you to take good notes and rely on your taste memory to recreate the dish at home. Unfortunately for me, I ran out of paper on this one.
Monkfish is sometimes called poor man’s lobster. I’m not sure why. I didn’t think it tasted anything like lobster. When cooked, it has a dense, meaty texture and an opaque mother-of-pearl sheen, but it has a much stronger fishy taste than lobster and it’s not nearly as sweet. Somehow Chef Marc managed to turn this ugly beast of a bottom-dweller into one of the most beautiful plates of food I’ve ever seen.
It also tasted heavenly and that may have had something to do with another one of Chef Marc’s rules – this one for making mashed potatoes:
The correct ratio of potatoes to butter is 2:1, so for every two pounds of potatoes you’ll need to add one pound of butter. He wasn’t joking.
Tarte Fine aux Pommes, Glace Caramel au Sel de Guérande
For dessert, we learned how to make a simple Puff Pastry Apple Tart with Caramel and Guérande Sea Salt Ice Cream. The pastry dough was already made when class started so the tart came together quite quickly. Chef rolled the dough out to a large rectangle and pierced it all over with a fork. He then sliced Golden Delicious Apples very thin (about 1 mm thick) and arranged them on top. They were then sprinkled with a pinch of vanilla powder and some sugar, then popped into the oven to bake.
This dish was so fantastic and so easy to make, I couldn’t wait to try it when I got home from Paris. I’m proud to say that it turned out just as well as the original. If you’re interested, you can see my modified version of the recipe here.
I was thrilled at the end of the class when Chef presented each of us with a very official looking Certificat de Participation. I think I actually got a tear in my eye.
Much the same as a die-hard Elvis fan visits Graceland to pay their respects, I felt compelled to visit this iconic institution where Julia Child first discovered her life’s work.* The entire experience was absolutely enchanting and one of the most memorable culinary adventures of my life to date (although the class at the Ritz-Escoffier School is a very close second. Watch for that review coming soon!)
*I’ve since learned that when Julia attended Le Cordon Bleu, the school was on rue du Faubourg Saint Honoré in the 1st arrondissement. Same school, same curriculum, but different bricks and mortar. Turns out I didn’t literally walk in her footsteps after all.
“If you’re afraid of butter, use cream.” - Julia Child
Le Cordon Bleu Paris
8, rue Léon Delhomme
75015 Paris
Culinary Demonstrations ~ Paris Market Tour
Date: October 7, 2011
Cost: 45.00 €
Style: Demonstration, Small Plates
Duration: 2 ½ hours
Chef Instructor: Marc Thivet
Highlights: Receiving the signed official Le Cordon Bleu
Certificate of Attendance at the end of the class.
Improvement Opportunities: The online course schedule could have
been a little clearer. I wasn't sure if I was registering for a
walking tour of a Paris Market, or a culinary demonstration, or
both. Although the name of this class was "Paris Market Tour" it
did not include a visit to the market.
†DISCLOSURE: This post includes Amazon affiliate links and I receive a tiny commission on any sales they may generate.
My fascination with French food started when I stumbled upon Laura Calder and her James Beard Award winning TV series, French Food at Home. Soon after discovering Laura, I fell head over heels for Julia Child, and that love affair quickly led to a burning desire to attend Le Cordon Bleu Paris. I made that dream a reality on October 6, 2011 when I took part in the first of two culinary demonstrations at what is quite possibly the world’s most famous cooking school.
The first demonstration was a lesson in food and wine pairing featuring red varietal wines. I would be lying if I told you I was a wine aficionado, but course choices were limited and this one fit my schedule. Besides, my goal was not to learn how to successfully pair French cuisine with red wines made from a single grape variety. It was to get a peek inside this iconic institution.
It took me the better part of an hour on the Paris Metro to get from my rented apartment in Le Marais to Le Cordon Bleu, but it seemed much longer. (When you are as excited as a 10-year-old girl on her way to a Justin Bieber concert, time just has a way of dragging.) In my eagerness, I managed to embarrass myself by arriving 50 minutes early. The school’s receptionist politely invited me to wait in the Winter Garden which isn’t a garden at all. It’s not even outside. It’s more like a café where full-time students hang out before and after class. I loved sitting there at my little corner table, soaking it all in, listening to the students chattering away in a half-dozen different languages. Men, women, young, older. They came from all over the world to pursue their dream, and despite their obvious differences in age, gender and nationality, they looked surprisingly similar with their white chef jackets and checked pants, with their hair pulled back from their faces. As 7:00 p.m. approached, the Winter Garden filled to standing room only with people dressed in street clothes, like me. It might not have been my first choice, but plenty of other foodies in Paris were certainly interested in a lesson on pairing food and wine!
Once inside the classroom, we all scrambled to find a seat, squashing ourselves into the kind of old-fashioned student desks that I hadn’t seen since I was in Elementary school. There were about 40 people in the class, and I think at least half of them were probably French-speaking. The sommelier, Jean-Michel Deluc, gave the wine lecture in French. Monsieur Deluc has had a very long and illustrious career as a sommelier in some of the most prestigious establishments in Paris, including Fouquet’s and the Espadon restaurant in the Ritz hotel. Chef Marc Thivet, recipient of many culinary awards, was in charge of the cuisine part of the demonstration (also delivered in French). Fortunately for me there was a third gentleman, a British chap, who acted as a translator for both Monsieur Deluc and Chef Thivet.
Chef Marc Thivet
THE PAIRINGS
Carpaccio de betterave et sa petite salade croquante (Beet carpaccio with a crisp salad) paired with Val de pays de Loire Gamay 2010 Domaine du Moulin Camus
Ruby red beets sliced paper-thin, topped with a crisp salad of black radish, apples, celery and smoked haddock, drizzled with a sherry cream vinaigrette and garnished with chervil.
Chef Thivet had diced and blanched the smoked haddock beforehand so the dish did not taste the least bit fishy. This was my first time tasting smoked haddock, beets, black radish, and chervil, and I thought they came together to make a salad that was absolutely delicious.
Magret de canard rôti aux épices, purée de celeri et abricots, navets fondants (Roast duck breast with spice, celery root purée with apricots, and tender daikon radish) paired with Saint-Joseph 2007 Nicolas Perrin
Duck breasts (from a foie gras fattened duck, of course) rubbed with a blend of coriander, anise, cinnamon, cardamom, salt and Szechuan pepper, seared skin down and then roasted until rare. Served over a sweet creamy celery root purée flecked with diced dried apricots, a glazed daikon radish, and then finished with a rich gastrique sauce.
I have no doubt that the duck was cooked perfectly, but it was just a bit too rare for my taste. The daikon radish (another first!) tasted like candy, and the celery root purée and the gastrique were simply amazing.
Tarte Aux Figues Rôties (Roasted fig tart) paired with Maydie Vignobles Laplace Tannat
A luscious dessert of sweet pastry filled with almond cream, pistachio paste and firm fresh figs.
It’s dessert. What’s not to like? This was my first taste of pistachio paste and I thought it was so scrumptious that I made a point of buying an entire jar of the stuff the very next day.
I won’t even pretend to have an informed opinion about the wine pairings since when it comes to red wine, I truly do have an uneducated palate. The only part of the wine lecture that I retained related to the dessert pairing. The sommelier informed us that it’s a huge mistake to serve champagne with dessert (especially an extra brut or brut). The dryness of the champagne competes with the sweetness of the dessert instead of complimenting it, and neither one ends up tasting right. Have you ever eaten a hot fudge sundae and then taken a sip of Coke, only to discover that your sugary cola has turned into tasteless soda water? Well, it’s the same concept at work when you drink champagne with dessert.
Class ended at 9:00 pm and everyone made a mad dash for the restrooms. I was waiting patiently in line when one of the Chef’s assistants came along and offered to show me to a second restroom located one floor up. Lucky me! She led me up a back staircase past portraits of some of the school’s most famous alumni! Gazing at those photos, I couldn’t help but sense the history and tradition of Le Cordon Bleu. She also let me peek into one of the immaculate professional teaching kitchens where hands-on practical classes are held.
I was ecstatic! I got what I came for – an inside look at Le Cordon Bleu – and it did not disappoint. As I walked back to the Vaugirard Metro station that evening I was already looking forward to returning the following afternoon for my second session.
Le Cordon Bleu Paris
8, rue Léon Delhomme
75015 Paris
Culinary Demonstrations ~ Food and Wine Pairing
Date: October 6, 2011
Cost: 65.00 €
Style: Demonstration, Small Plates Paired with Wine
Duration: 2 hours
Chef Instructor: Marc Thivet
Sommelier: Jean-Michel Deluc
Highlights: Seeing the framed photos of past alumni (including
Julia Child and Giada De Laurentiis) hanging in the back stairwell.
Improvement Opportunities: A little more elbow room would have
been nice. It was almost impossible to balance a plate of food, a
glass of wine, a recipe booklet and a camera on that tiny
desktop.
Paris is a food lover’s paradise. Especially if the food lover also happens to have a sweet tooth. There are patisseries and boulangeries on almost every street corner, all offering a gorgeous array of delightful treats. The breakfasts pastries are my favourite. Croissants, pain au chocolat, palmiers, and luscious fruit tarts. Is there anything better than the light buttery taste of perfectly golden puff pastry?
The list of ingredients to make puff pastry is actually very short – flour, salt, water and butter. Developing the dough, however, involves a lesson in origami. Once you’ve mixed the four ingredients together, you let the dough rest for at least 12 hours in the refrigerator. Next comes the process of making turns. The technique I learned at the École Ritz Escoffier goes something like this:
Roll dough out into a large cross shape
Place a big square of softened butter in the centre of the cross
Fold two opposite parts of the cross up over the butter towards the centre
Fold the remaining two flaps up and over the butter
This will make an envelope that completely encloses the butter
Roll out the dough again until it forms a rectangle 3x longer than it is wide
Fold the dough in thirds by folding the top third of the dough down, then the bottom third up
Repeat steps 6 and 7
Square off the dough – this completes one full turn
Repeat steps 1 – 9
Put dough in the refrigerator for one hour
Repeat steps 1 – 9 twice
Put back in the refrigerator for another hour
Repeat steps 1 – 9 two more times – you should now have completed 6 full turns
Put back in the refrigerator for half an hour
Roll out the dough, cut it and bake it according to the recipe you’ve chosen
Confused yet? I know I am. Here are a few suggestions that might help you keep track of your turns:
When you square off the dough at the end of the turn, always end with the folded edge on the left. That way when you start your next turn, you can open it up like a book.
At the end of each turn, make a thumb print in the dough.
Of course there is an easier way. You can always buy frozen puff pastry at the grocery store, but make sure you buy one that has real butter. (I buy President’s Choice Butter Puff Pastry.)
I’ve used store-bought puff pastry three times. Once for a dinner party where I served Anna Olson’s Tomato Basil Tarts as a starter, last week when I made a modified version of Le Cordon Bleu’s Puff Pastry Apple Tart, and last night when I made an amazing Banana Tarte Tatin from Bon Appétit’s Home Entertaining issue.
It might be fun to do a blind taste test with two desserts – one made with frozen puff pastry and the other from scratch. I bet it would take a very discerning palate to distinguish between the two. A Parisian pastry chef might be able to tell them apart, but I doubt that any of my dinner guests could. What do you think? Could you tell frozen from scratch?
I celebrated my first Thanksgiving and my first birthday on the same day – November 22, 1962. Since then, the fourth Thursday of November and my birthday have coincided six more times. Growing up I didn’t think this was a particularly good thing. We had a family tradition that the birthday kid got to choose the menu on their big day but, unfortunately for me, Thanksgiving always trumped birthdays. I wanted pizza and ice cream and cake and candles; not turkey and brussels sprouts. The issue resolved itself in 1974 when we moved to Canada and started celebrating Thanksgiving on the second Monday of October.
This year I missed out on Thanksgiving with my family in Canada. Instead, I was on my own enjoying the culinary wonders of Paris. I marked the holiday by feasting on the best hot dog on the planet.
But I’m not going completely cold turkey on turkey. Instead, I’m joining up with other food bloggers and writers to celebrate a virtual Thanksgiving with The Food Network. Like all good dinner guests, we are each bringing something to the Communal Table – recipes, photos, tips, memories and holiday stories.
My contribution to the virtual feast is a wonderful Puff Pastry Apple Tart (since you can never have too many desserts at the table). It’s loosely based on a recipe that I learned to make at Le Cordon Bleu in Paris. Le Cordon Bleu recipes aren’t exactly recipes. They are just a list of ingredients. It’s up to the student to make their own notes on technique, cooking times, temperature, etc. The original tart recipe involved making puff pastry from scratch but since most of us live in the real world, my version starts with frozen puff pastry. (Just be sure you buy one that says all butter or real butter since there are plenty of brands out there that don’t include any butter at all. When in doubt, check the ingredients listed on the box.)
On a lightly floured surface, unroll pastry and roll out to a 12″ x 12″ square
Place the puff pastry on the baking sheet and pierce it all over with a fork
Peel and core apples, cut them in half, then slice them very thin
Arrange slices on the pastry
Drizzle with honey
Sprinkle with vanilla powder (if you prefer, you can substitute cinnamon for the vanilla powder)
Bake for 30 – 35 minutes, until apples are tender and pastry is golden brown
Let cool slightly, then garnish with powdered sugar and serve with a scoop of your favorite ice cream.
*Vanilla powder is popular in France where it’s made from 100% crushed vanilla beans. If you can’t find it in your area, you can order it online at the Vanilla Food Company. You can also make your own by drying vanilla pods in a slow oven (about 250° F) until they are dry enough to snap; about 45 minutes. Once they’ve dried, use a spice grinder or food processor to grind them into a powder.
