The Last Roundup

If you made the Kouigns Amann (or Kouign Amanns, if you prefer), you already had an amazing taste treat.  Now you're in for a visual treat, as The Last Roundup features photos from every baker who braved the mysteries of laminated dough to make this Breton specialty.  This series of pictures--each one a beauty--is a fitting tribute to Rose, who was able to make the impossible for a home baker doable.

Photo by Joan

Alpha Baker Joan

Joan was troubled by the heat in her tiny kitchen, and she had a hard time persuading the butter to stay solid during the turns.  But you'd never know there was a problem from looking at that pile of pastries on her elegant floral plate.

Photo by Vicki

Heavenly Cake Walk

Vicki was not totally on board with the idea of ending the bake-through as we began, but being Vicki, and with granddaughter as sous chef, she soldiered on, making a Kouign Amann which you can almost hear crackle.  "With Roses's recipes, it's often blind faith.  Keep calm and carry on."  And she did.

Photo by Rachel

Cooking and Thinking

For some of us, including Rachel, this was not a repeat experience.  Rachel was one of about ten bakers who joined the group after it started (and special shout-out to Rachel--I don't think she's missed a single week since she joined up!).  She didn't think she was up for "this kind of pastry.  No laminating for me!"  But "these delicious buns had me literally eating my words.  They looked right, they were flaky, and they were delicious!"  

Photo by Aimee

Food Geekette

Making these Queenies was also a first-time adventure for Aimee, but does this picture make her look like a novice?  I think not.  "Somewhere between a danish and croissant.  Not too sweet.  Layers of butter.  Completely awesome still warm.  Still better than anything from the store the next day.

Photo by Mendy

Greenstein's Bakery

And this entry from Mendy, another amazing example of what you can do with a toaster oven.  These were "delicious.  Better than I remembered."  Mendy sugared the dough with all the turns, instead of just the final one, and was "glad [he] did."  And one last picture of Mendy's family, enjoying the pastries with a hearty "L'Chaim!"

Photo by Orin

Orin's Goodies

This was also Orin's first Kouign Amann, but she thinks they'll be one of the things she'll "be making traditionally in the years ahead."  And although it was a first experience, it "went so well," in part, thanks to Patricia's valuable step-by-step in her re-post of her 2014 Kouign Amann blog.  "We loved the diversity of textures, flaky, soft and chewy.  A goodness of butter rich flavor mixed with caramel heaven."

Photo by Catherine

Phyllis Caroline 

Like Mendy, Catherine thought these were "even better the second time around."  And a perfect example of one of the things she's learned after baking nearly every week as an Alpha Baker.  "Your colleagues will be disappointed eand angry if you suddenly stop bringing them baked goods on a weekly basis.  Especially after the Kouign Amann.  Boy, did they like them."

And that's all she wrote.  

It's always hard to say goodbye, isn't it?  It may be a little hard to adjust to a new reality that doesn't include baking at least one, often complicated, recipe a week, blogging about it, and reading all yours blogs and writing about them too.  

The biggest payoff for me has not been the succession of baked goodies, although it's hard to deny that that's been pretty great, but being able to read your vivid, funny, and detailed accounts of your own baking.  I've loved being invited into your kitchens, watching your successes and frustrations, and getting glimpses into the lives you lead outside the kitchen.  You are a warm, smart, thoughtful, and talented group of people.  I'll miss you all.

And thanks once again to Rose and Woody, for developing these recipes and for having confidence that anyone with an oven (even a toaster oven) can pull them off.  Of course you can smooth fondant!  Meringues in the shape of birch twigs--why not?  Laminated pastry--you can do it!  And, for the most part, it turns out that they're right.

As Mendy said, "Cheers!  L'chaim!  To life!"

Kouign Amann

It's all well and good to talk about one Kouign Amann, but what if you want to discuss two or three? I called them Kouigns Amann, but then I noticed that Rose called them Kouign Amanns.  Rose knows French better than I do, but does she know Breton?  I asked Google what the plural of Kouign Amann was, and it promptly told me it was actually Kouignoù Amann.  Well, I must say I hadn't expected that.  In the privacy of my own home, I'll continue to call them Queenies, which I've always done.

I remember how scared I was of making these the first time around.  I just didn't believe it would work out.  This time, I honestly enjoyed making them.  It was a fine way to while away a wintry December day.  During the time the day was resting, I wrapped presents and decorated the house and listened to music.

When the dough wasn't resting, I rolled it out, keeping the corners square!, and folded it in business-letter turns.  (When people stop sending letters altogether, how will bakers know how to turn laminated dough?)  I can't think of a better way to spend the day.

I even used a measuring tape to make sure my rectangles were just the right size.  Woody was with me the first time I made these.  I was alone this time, but the measuring tape and square corners made me feel that I was channeling him.

It doesn't get hard until the very last part, where the sugar is folded in, and the dough is at its thickest.

The first time I made them I was confused by the directions about how to make the final flower-like folds.  This time I understood they wouldn't all turn out the same way and, as Rose says, that's part of their charm.

Fortunately, I had my handy-dandy crumpet rings so I didn't have to improvise with foil or with flashing.

Isn't it beautiful?

I haven't quite achieved perfection yet.  There must be a perfect spot, when the top is nicely browned, and the bottom is deeply caramelized but not burned.  I moved the baking pan up to the second instead of the lowest level, but I think I must have baked them just 30 seconds too long because the bottom of the Kouign was just a tad over the line between dark and burned.  I may try using parchment instead of foil next time (unless someone's already tried parchment and it didn't work, in which case I hope you'll let me know).

I'm seriously thinking of freezing just one of these and putting it out for Santa.  I'm pretty sure if Santa got a Kouign Amann and a snifter of brandy instead of milk and cookies, I'd get some serious jewelry in my stocking.

One can always hope.

Midweek Roundup: "Delivered to Three Happy People"

Photo by Joan

Alpha Baker Joan

Joan started making her toffee at 6:00 p.m. and was writing about it at 1:00 a.m., so she must have been exhausted by the time she wrote about it, what with "the long stirring and constant temp checking."  Definitely the time-consuming part of making this toffee.  But "all's well that ends well," and her toffee "has now been delivered to three happy people."

Come to think of it, making people happy with small gifts of toffee was a theme for the Alpha Bakers this week, even if the person being made happy was the Alpha Baker herself.

Vicki certainly made her granddaughter (aka sous chef) happy with the toffee, and also with the sous chef title and the introduction of the saucier pan, which is now on her Christmas list.  And the feeling was mutual, since granddaughter/sous chef made Vicki breakfast, kept her company in the kitchen, and caught it when Vicki almost omitted the vanilla and baking soda.  A "luxurious and buttery" toffee is what these two intrepid chefs made together.  

Patricia had just one word for this toffee:  "perfect."  She wouldn't change a thing (although she spdid change the recipe a bit by spreading the toffee out in a bigger oval so it would be thinner, and by coating only the top of the toffee with chocolate and almonds instead of flipping the cooled toffee over and covering the bottom too).  This is one of her favorite toffee recipes--"perfectly crisp and chewy."

"Toffeemaking success" for Rachel, even though she, like most of us, found the actual cooking process somewhat "nerve-wracking," with the "stirring and temperature taking and fretting I'd let it get too hot and end up with crumbly toffee."  She thought she might add some salt to the almonds next time (good idea!), but she was pretty pleased with her first foray into chocolate-covered toffee.  

Kristina was pretty sure this toffee would "make a good contribution to the snack stash" for an at-home football party, and she was so right.    "When one of my friends had a piece, his eyes lit up, and he said 'Homemade skor!  Skor is my favourite!'"  "Definitely a hit" and "a great treat for the Christmas stockpile."  

In addition to making toffee, some of us waxed a little nostalgic over this, the last new recipe in the bake-off.  Jen wrote "Baking through Rose's Baking Bible these last two years has been quite a journey.  Parts fun, parts exasperating, time-consuming and lost-in-creating, delicious and exquisite and confidence building, this has been a wonderful experience."  And the toffee?  Pretty wonderful itself.  "Crunchy and sweet and perfect for the holiday platter."

This toffee, in its original incarnation in Rose's Christmas Cookies, was Orin's introduction to the Rose Baking Method, and it's been a holiday favorite ever since.  Staying true to the original version, she made it without corn syrup, but she did add the chocolate and nuts to both sides, because "who doesn't like more chocolate?"  The toffee "has a very nice crunch, and it melts in your mouth like a celebration of flavors.  It's rich and creamy, addictive, and buttery smooth crunchy.  My taster said, "this is so unlike any 'toffee' that it should have its own name."  No wonder it's won a place on Orin's holiday plate!

Katya brought happiness to her boyfriend, who is not usually an eater of sweets, but who "has a weakness for salty toffee and Heath bars...."  He said "it sticks in your teeth like something very not good for you but in a good way."  And "the teen shelvers [at the library] just stood around saying 'mmmmm.'"  Well, what do you expect from "some pretty good toffee covered (on both sides!) with chocolate and dipped (on both sides!) in nuts.  Madness.  Delicious."

Next week:  We are down to the reprise of the Kouign Amann.  I can't wait to make this again and to see all of yours!

Luxury Chocolate Buttercrunch Toffee

I wasn't too worried about making this cookie/candy because I've made the original Rose's Christmas Cookies buttercrunch toffee many times.  It used to be a regular on my Christmas cookie platter, but I haven't made it for a while.  I don't know why because everyone always loved it.

But when I started getting out the ingredients, something about the recipe deeply confused me:  the amount of chocolate was given as a range.  From 170 to 340 grams.  This from Rose, the Queen of Precision.  It must be a mistake, I thought.  Because I use the advance reading paperback copy to bake with (I know from experience that a cookbook you use once a week for two years gets torn, stained, and generally ratty), I checked the real (autographed) copy.  No, that book gave the same range.  I was so stunned I had to sit down to ponder.  Okay, I guess Rose is letting me decide how thick a layer I want on my toffee.  This is probably good.  I should be willing to take responsibility for how chocolatey I want my toffee.  But that's a big range.  I finally decided to let chance take over.  I have a huge bag (now almost empty) of Guittard chocolate chips.  I poured them in a bowl, and then looked at the scale.  223 grams.  I tossed in a few more to get it up to 225 grams.  Then I put another 225 grams in the measuring cup, to be melted at a later time.

I used dark brown sugar because I was out of light Muscovado.  Remember when your baking staples were just flour, sugar, and butter?  And remember when you'd never heard of Muscovado sugar or Lyle's golden syrup and didn't have at least four different kinds of flour in your pantry,   I dimly remember those days.  Anyway, the toffee mixture is much darker than I remember it being.  I'm too lazy to go compare recipes.

"Instant-reading" thermometers aren't really instant.  Also, the temperature varies depending on whether you take it in the center or the edge of the pan.  So much as I like the idea of taking the hot toffee mixture off the flame at just the right moment, it doesn't really happen.  At least not in my kitchen.

I love it when things change form as if by magic.  Here the chocolate melts while it sits on top of the hot toffee, which is also changing from molten lava to solid form.

I also remember when I didn't have two different sizes of offset spatulas.  Life was simpler then.

After cooling for an hour, the now-hardened toffee easily slipped off the Sil Pat and turned over without a hitch.  A lot of the almonds seemed to fall off even though I thought I'd done a thorough job of pressing them down.

Then melted chocolate and almonds go on the second side.  Press and cool.

And there you have it.  Luxury Buttercrunch Toffee with just exactly the right amount of chocolate.  It's very hard to get those proportions just right.

Midweek Roundup: "Rustic and Adorable"

Photo by Katya

Second Dinner

It's pretty hard not to like these cupcakes.  In fact, I think you'd have to be pretty grinchy not to like them, although being grinchy is always possible.

For Katya, they provided a chance to work on her "cupcake spin"--"that quick twist of the wrist, properly executed, [that] will make your cupcake frosting look both rustic and adorable, a la Magnolia Bakery or their offshoots."  Piping makes them look adorable, but if you add cherries to the raspberry mousseline, the cherries might get stuck in the piping tip.  Since Katya's previous foray into baking was brownies into which she'd forgotten to add flour ("weirdly delicious), she was satisfied with how these turned out.

Rosa has some of the best piping skills this side of the Rockies, so it's not surprising that her cupcakes also looked adorable (although perhaps not rustically so).  Rosa enjoyed the cupcakes so much, but she wished the recipe for the mousseline had made just a bit more--the better to make big and beautiful roses atop the cupcakes.  She also baked her cupcakes at 350 rather than 375 because she was afraid that temperature was too high for the delicate cupcakes.  

If you've read many of Vicki's posts, you'll know that she likes to taste-test the batter, as well as the finished product.  And yes, this was "another outstanding bowl of cake batter from Rose's repertoire." It was Vicki's "lucky day," as there was nary a glitch with meringue are mousseline.  And the result was some "pretty fancy cupcakes, ... perfect for a Fancy Nancy tea party."   I for one think that in these troubled times we could all do with more Fancy Nancy tea parties.  

I read Rachel's post with great interest because she compared smooshing the raspberries into puree with her old method (sieve and effort--ugh!) with her new method (food mill).  The food mill won, hands down, once she figured out that she had the blade in upside-down, that is.  Even though Rachel had to mix the butter by hand (her immersion blender "having given up the ghost"), all turned out well.  If you want to see what a cupcake with pink spaghetti frosting looks like, you'll have to check out her blog.  If you want to know how to get pink spaghetti frosting, you'll just have to figure out how to clog up a piping tip with a "small chunk of hardened sugar syrup."  

I have a confession to make.  I've always been comforted by the fact that Jen is almost as piping-averse as I am.  After all, if the Evil Cake Lady herself can bake 100's of great cakes without piping, why shouldn't I?  But now she's gone and made these cupcakes and decorated them so beautifully, with roses straight out of Alice in Wonderland.  Even though she claims she hid her piping errors, I didn't spot any.  Not only did her cupcakes look great, but they tasted great too.  "I immediately wanted another cupcake, but in an attempt to model good behavior for Eliot I did not.  He is in bed now, and of course I am eating another cupcake."

Catherine's "baking adventure" was a "tale of shortcuts, go-arounds, and straight out laziness."  (Note that this is a quotation from Catherine, and that I am not accusing her of being lazy.)  Catherine figured that she could find just enough energy to make cupcakes or mousseline, but not both.  So she decided to bake the cakes and make raspberry cream cheese icing instead of the mousseline, as Baker Google assured her this would be a snap.  Not quite a snap when you run out of icing sugar in the middle of the night, but Catherine managed a series of improvisations that resulted in good, though runny, frosting.  Perfect for a young dog's birthday party.  Yes, you read that right.

Next week:  Luxury Chocolate Buttercrunch Toffee, an ultra-chocolatey variation on Rose's old favorite from Rose's Christmas Cookies.

The countdown:  We're down to two.  It's only the toffee and Kouigns Amann Redux.  If you want to get in on the fun, better do it now.

White Chocolate Cupcakes with Raspberry Mousseline

Have you ever been tempted by a cupcake at a bakery only to bring it home and find that it's dry and flavorless and the nicely-piped mountain of icing tastes of nothing but sweetness?  Well, these cupcakes are not like those cupcakes.

First, they're made with melted white chocolate, which gives them an indefinable but definite flavor and also (I think) gives the cake some texture so that you can't just squish it in your hand and have it turn to mush.  (Well, I didn't try that maneuver, but I'm still standing behind my statement).

Other than making sure you have real white chocolate with butterfat content, there's nothing tricky about making the batter.  And even without weighing the individual cupcakes, I found that the batter was just enough for 16 cupcakes.  You probably could have put a little more batter in each cup and make 14 cupcakes, but there's too much for just a dozen.  Having more than a dozen of these cupcakes is not the worst thing in the world.

Now the frosting.  When I first read the name of the recipe, I said to myself, "Mousseline.  Hmm.  Isn't that the frosting with the sugar syrup that can fly all over the kitchen and the one that turns into a horrible curdled mess but eventually turns out OK?  If you're lucky."  Yes, indeed it is.

I hate straining and pounding and mashing raspberries.  Last time I had to do it, I told myself to immediately order a food mill.  But I forgot.  I forgot until I was pounding and mashing the raspberries this time.  I even know which one I'm going to get, but there are no more raspberry puree recipes in The Baking Bible, so should I get it now or wait until the next time I need it, which may be never.  The jury is out.

Once you have the raspberry juice and the puree (I have to say it was really hard to tell the juice from the puree).

Creaming the butter for a good long time is the easy part.

And this time, adding the sugar syrup to the egged whites was easy too.

Dealing with the curdled mess was not so easy.  Actually, curdled messes, as in two of them.  First, the butter and sweetened meringue mixture curdles.  Then, when you add the raspberries, it breaks apart and curdles again.  I took the curdled mess's temperature several times; it was 68 or 69.  Not too hot and not too cold.  But definitely not just right.  However, by magic as far as I can tell, eventually the curdled mess turns into mousseline.  Should it be called messeline?

I'll grant you that this doesn't look much like a rose.  But hey, I piped it, didn't I?  I should get credit for that, especially since I hadn't a clue which tip I was supposed to use.  Also I got tired of piping from the middle outward, so I went from thse outside in.  There is actually one cupcake that you might look at and say to yourself, yeah, I guess you might call that a rose.  Unfortunately, Jim didn't take a picture of that one.

Mess or not, I love the taste of this mousseline.  Usually I try to eat one piece of whatever I've made and get it out the door ASAP.  I put these in the freezer, however, to reward myself for doing something reward-worthy.  JJ gets a treat for being a good listener.  Maybe I should
try that.

What did you say?

Midweek Roundup: "Wow!"

Photo by Rosa

Simply Delicious

This picture of Rosa's looks, at first glance, like it's made with a meringue pie shell, but that beautiful white rim is actually piped super-stabilized whipped cream.  For the crust, Rosa made a honey wafer graham crust from The Pie and Pastry Bible, and added lemon zest and toasted walnuts for extra flavor.  I think she was a little surprised at how delicious this pie turned out to be, and suggested that it would make a dynamite Christmas dessert.  Some other alternatives she suggested were to make mini pies or to simply skip the pie concept altogether, and spoon it into pretty glasses topped with whipped cream and crumb topping.

When you have enough Minor Mishaps to start numbering them, you know it wasn't completely smooth sailing.  But Rachel didn't let her list of mishaps stop her from making the pie from start to finish.  First, there was the two-hour slow-oven meringue bake, which prevented her from baking the pie before taking a planned walk, but that just threw the timing off.  More problematic was the Losing of the Pie Pan.  This clearly shows the disadvantage of having only one pie pan (although you can see that logic would require you to have at least two of every cooking utensil).  Well, in fact, she did have another pie pan, which was perfectly fine except for being a little shallow for this recipe.  Minor mishap #3 was beating her egg whites for the meringue with an immersion blender that was leaking oil.  It turns out that you can beat egg whites by hand.  Rachel, who's not on Facebook, missed Rose's instructions on how to get a meringue shell out of the pan.  Suffice it to say "the pie had to be scraped out like a baked pudding."  Oh well.  Rachel still found things to admire about this pie, but it wasn't going to make it on her Top Ten All-Time Favorite list.

Rachel should take a look at Catherine's blog if she wants to feel a little better about her mishaps.  Catherine didn't number her mishaps, but I think she might challenge Rachel to a mishap duel.  (Easy for me to say since I didn't even make the meringue).  Had Catherine not been an Alpha Baker, she would not even have considered making this pie.  "To my mind, a meringue pie crust is an odd concept, and filling it with mousse straight out eccentricity."  But, as it turned out, she was glad she made it.  "The meringue swirls at the rim of the pie ... are a clever and pretty way to show off the pink mousse filling.  The pomegranate flavoured filling is a really lovely, fresh flavour that goes well with the sweet meringue."  Because I've already written enough, I won't detail the things that went wrong in the formation of the meringue (but remember that Catherine lives in one of the most humid spots in the world).  I'll just say that in Catherine's estimation, delicious as it tasted, the rest of the pie just might have to "go to the big fridge in the sky."  Sniff.

Let me add that Joan has been baking right along with us, but the fruits of her labors are not always visible.  Her blog is acting up, so she's been unable to post photos to the blog, but you can see some on Facebook.  She may be working on her pie at this very moment!

Next week:  The last cake in the book--a white chocolate cupcake with raspberry mousseline.  Sounds delightful.

The countdown:  We have only three recipes left--the cupcakes, a candy/cookie, and the incredible Kouign Amann.

Pomegranate Winter Chiffon Meringue Pie

Although the name of this pie has the word "meringue" in it, my pie does not, as the picture makes clear, contain meringue, piped or otherwise.  We had dinner guests on Saturday.  I was still shocked and saddened by the election results, and I didn't have it in me to plan the menu.  Saturday morning, though, I realized I was either going to off to shake off my gloom and get started or I would end up ordering pizza and having ice cream for dessert.  Nothing wrong with pizza and ice cream, but that's not what I have in mind when I invite people for dinner.

I decided on comfort food--braised short ribs, mashed potatoes, and glazed carrots.  Then I checked the pomegranate pie recipe to see if I'd have time to make it.  Well, clearly the meringue shell wasn't going to work.  Not only did I have to make meringue and pipe it into a pie pan, but I'd also have to bake it for over 2 hours.  And where did that leave the short ribs that had to go into the oven for 3 to 4 hours.

I considered the alternative: a lemon cookie crust.  That sounded delicious, but I'd have to bake cookies, which gave me the same short rib problem.  Then I had, if I do say so, a brilliant idea.  Remember the very good, very easy crumb crust made with vanilla wafers?  What if I made that, and just added lemon peel to it.

And so I did.  Vanilla wafers, sugar, almonds, butter, and lemon zest.  No baking, no interfering with the short ribs.

Once I got the crust problem out of the way, it couldn't have been simpler to make the pomegranate chiffon part of the pie.  POM pomegranate juice (Rose is right about the beautiful color) with sugar and cornstarch.

Then beaten egg whites mixed in with the thickened juice to make a sweet pink mixture, and whipped cream to make it even more sweetly pink.

Poured into the already made crumb crust.

Since I wasn't doing any of the hard stuff, I thought that the least I could do is decorate the pie with fresh pomegranate seeds, AKA pomegranate arils.  It's a little tricky to get rid of all the bitter white pith that wants to cling to the arils.

And here is a piece of pie.  As the pie sits, the mixture wants to separate.  The next day, there was a definite dark red layer at the bottom of the pie, but if you don't say anything about it, people will think it's supposed to be like that.

My guests loved this pie.  We had it for dessert at our pre-theater dinner.  Then, after we watched the play, we came back and had a second piece.  Our friend David said that mango chiffon pie was his old favorite pie, but his new favorite is pomegranate chiffon pie.  I feel a little bad about displacing an old family favorite, but I think there's always room for two kinds of pie in your life.

Midweek Roundup: "Dangerously easy to eat"

Photo by Jen

Evil Cake Lady

The question of the week was "Are these real madeleines?"  Jen, for example, said she had never tried a madeleine before, so she has "no idea if this is true to the original or not," but it is a "lovely soft little chocolate cake," so that's good enough for her, especially since the madeleines are "easy enough to make and pretty quick."  (You'll notice that she made full-sized madeleines, which accounts for their being quick and easy.)  She also discovered that the unbaked batter tastes like "soft serve ice cream."  An added bonus.

It seemed to Catherine that an authentic madeleine would be made with almond meal.  But she acknowledged that she was no expert in the arcana of madeleine-making, especially since she had only one single madeleine mould.  So she made just a few madeleines that looked like madeleines; she filled up her mince pie tray with the rest of the batter.  Without "the traditional shell shape," these looked like "cake blobs.  Delicious but meaningless."  But is anything delicious really meaningless?  That is my existential question for the day.

Raymond may be the Alpha font of madeleine knowledge, since he says he has "made many different kinds of madeleines over the years," his favorite being "the classic lemon flavored Commercy madeleine."  His "only complaint about madeleines is that they go stale so quickly."  He liked these chocolate madeleines (and, I'm guessing, the fact that they don't get dry and stale), but would not bother brushing on the glaze next time:  he'd either "dunk them in the chocolate glaze or skip it altogether and just dust them with cocoa."  

Faithy had some doubts about whether you could call these true madeleines because they were "humpless"--they came out of the oven without the "characteristic hump" of traditional madeleines and they "tasted more like chocolate cake than madeleines."  They actually reminded her of whoopie pies, and so she decided to sandwich them with ganache.  Doubts about this madeleine's authenticity fell by the wayside after she tasted them.  "I would still make it again anytime since they are easy to make, delicious, and easy to eat too in bite size."  

Vicki didn't much care if they were true madeleines or not.  She didn't even much care if they were baked or not.  Like all of Rose's cake batters, "why bother baking them at all?  Just hand out spoons and sit around the mixer bowl like a fondue pot."  But she did bake them, in both regular- and mini-sized versions.  There were "more casualties among the mini."  On the other hand, that meant "more to pop into my very willing mouth."  They are "lovely little morsels."  

Rachel's "adventure into madeleine land definitely ended well," even though she used mini-cupcake pans instead of madeleine pans and even though she dipped the cupcake-madeleines into the ganache instead of glazing it on.  (No stray bristles on your madeleines that way).  They were delicious, and easy to make, although that could just be because "compared to the complicated dance of supervising college applications while not being overbearing makes most things look simple by comparison."  Yes, I remember that dance.

Next week:  The Pomegranate Winter Chiffon Meringue Pie.  A perfect choice for Minnesota, and probably some other states and provinces, since we're supposed to have our first winter snowfall tonight.  Note Rose's new information on how to unmold a meringue pie.  

The countdown:  Only 4 recipes left, one from each major category of the book--pies, cakes, cookies, and breads.  You can do it!

Chocolate Sweetheart Madeleines

This would be quick and easy if you didn't use mini-madeleine pans and if you didn't have to glaze the mini-madeleines with a tiny paint brush (that shed red bristles on the tiny cookies).  Also, if your mini-madeleine pans had some definition, you might end up with tiny madeleines that actually looked like madeleines.  If they don't, then you end up with little brown blobs.  Brown blobs taste fine, but they don't have the same cachet as madeleines.

The madeleine batter is based on Rose's Chocolate Domingo Cake recipe, so even though the madeleines are in the cookie section, they're really more of a cake.  Even the small madeleines (made using only 4 grams of batter) remained moist after baking.

I had only two mini-madeleine pans (24 small indentations in each pan, for a total of 48).  I'm glad I didn't get four pans to make 100 (or 96, to be precise).

These are the little molds.

And these are the big ones.  Even when I looked at them both, it didn't occur to me that the big one was going to produce something that looked like a shell, and the little one wasn't.

Even when I spooned (no, I didn't pipe) them in their little pan in 4-ounce increments, it didn't occur to me that they might not look like madeleines.

Finally, after I took them out of the pan and started daubing chocolate glaze on them, I started thinking, hmm, these don't look like much of anything.  Aren't madeleines supposed to look like shells?  Well, maybe when they have glaze on them, they'll look like something.

Nope.  Well, maybe a little bit like a newly hatched bunch of headless brown turtles.

Actually, even the bigger ones didn't look so much like madeleines.  On the other hand, they didn't look so much like headless turtles.

The good news is that they really did taste good.  And the small ones were just the right size for granddaughter Lily to smush in her hand before popping into her mouth.  And anything that elicits a big toothy grin from Lily is OK with me.