Crepe Cake: How to Become a Pro at Crepes

The crepe cake, halved, since three people post brinner could hardly handle more.

I remember seeing the words crepe cake on a menu at a Vietnamese restaurant in Bangkok. I adore crepes, but I didn't have time to savor the dessert, so we never ordered it (and hence made it reasonably on time to our movie).

I'm not religious, but I'm pretty sure browned butter is what heaven smells like.

I decided that brinner was the perfect occasion for such a dessert and settled on the crepe cake recipe at Cream Puffs In Venice. I mean, the site claims to have tested out "The Real Crepe Cake Recipe" posted in the NY Times, so who am I to question it?

Twelve crepes, stacked and cooling.

Smitten Kitchen posted a savory crepe cake around the same time I made this, and I laughed in agreement with their similar experiences with the first crepe (like pancakes, it never seems to work out). I'm glad I only made half a cake, otherwise the three of us would have died a little after brinner.

Thick and smooth vanilla pastry cream.

I would say I am not a master of pastry cream, especially since this was my first attempt, and I was sort of alarmed when it clumped together in a disturbing manner while I whisked it on the stove. Thankfully, an electric mixer fixed the lumpy goop and made it a lovely, spreadable consistency. Phew.

Pastry cream spread thin, nearing the lacy edges of the crepe.

The Real Crepe Cake 
(halved and broken into "crepe batter,""pastry cream," and "assembly")
Adapted from Cream Puffs In Venice, originally from the NY Times


Yields one half crepe cake

crepe batter
yields 13 whole crepes (but you're probably tossing the first one)


3 T (45g)  unsalted butter
1 1/2 C  milk
3  eggs
3/4 C (75g)  all-purpose flour
3 T  caster sugar
pinch of salt
1/4 tsp  vanilla
1/4 tsp  almond extract
extra butter for cooking

1. Brown the butter in a small pot, then pour into a small bowl and set aside.
2. Add the milk to the same pot and heat until it begins to steam; remove the pot and cool 10 minutes.
3. In a medium bowl, beat together the remaining ingredients.
4. While continuing to stir, slowly add the milk and butter.
5. Pour batter into a container, cover, and refrigerate overnight.

pastry cream

yields double what you need, even though it's halved from the original

1 C  milk

1/2 T  vanilla

3  egg yolks

1/4 C  sugar

2 1/2 T  cornstarch (corn flour)

1 3/4 T  unsalted butter, softened

1. Heat the milk until bubbles form around the edge; remove from heat.
2. Mix in the vanilla and let sit 3 minutes.
3. Make an ice bath and set a bowl inside that can hold about 2 cups of liquid or chill a pyrex bowl in the freezer until cold.
4. In a pot, whisk the yolks, sugar, and cornstarch, then whisk in the vanilla milk.
5. Heat until it begins to simmer, continuing to whisk the entire time, until it begins to thicken.
6. Once it has reached a thin pudding-like consistency (it will thicken slightly when cooled), remove from heat and use a rubber spatula to scrape the mixture into the ice bath or chilled bowl.
7. Beat using an electric mixer until smooth and slightly cooled (3 minutes or so).
8. Beat in the butter, cover, and refrigerate overnight.

assembly

3/4 C  heavy cream

1 T  sugar

strawberries, sliced (optional)

powdered sugar (optional)

1. Whip together the heavy cream and sugar until it's fluffy; it won't hold peaks, but get some air in there.
2. Fold the whipped cream into the pastry cream and return to fridge until ready to use.
3. Warm a pan and melt a little butter in it and spread it around.
4. Pour in a small amount of crepe batter (scant 1/4 C) and swirl it around until the bottom of the pan is coated.
5. Cook about a minute or so, until the edges begin to brown.
6. Flip and cook a few seconds, then remove to a plate. Cover with a piece of parchment paper.
7. Repeat steps 3-6 until all the batter is used, then allow the crepes to cool completely.
8. Spread a small amount of pastry cream on the top of a crepe, cut in half (because we're making a half a cake), and stack together on the serving plate (cream side facing up).
9. Repeat step 8 until all crepes have been used, leaving the very top crepe bare (no cream - you can flip the cream side down if you already did the deed).
10. Refrigerate at least two hours.
11. Garnish with strawberries and powdered sugar to serve.
12. Enjoy!

Crepe Cake Reflections

Imagine how delighted the chocolate lover in your life would be if you replaced that vanilla pastry cream with Nutella.

This cake takes some time. And by some time, I mean a lot of time. The batter and pastry cream are prepared the night before, then you make a bunch of crepes, let them cool, finish the pastry cream, stack it all together, let it sit in the fridge another two hours, garnish it, and are finally allowed to eat it.

The crepes themselves are more fragile than I would have liked, but the texture of the assembled cake was nice. Refrigeration before serving is key; without it, the crepe layers would slide around in an undesirable manner when you're trying to cut in.

Nutella monster, using Nutella instead of pastry cream and garnishing with hazelnuts, an idea the Resident Taste Tester is keen on. Lemon pastry cream and a garnish of coarse sugar and lemon juice sounds like a dream. You could also try peanut butter and thin banana slices, though that might get a bit thick on the tongue. I think I would die if I made a white Russian crepe cake, but I'd be smiling in my grave.

Give it a try and let me know if you've made any creative changes!

Rosemary Bread and the Plain Baguette

Two loaves of rosemary bread and one plain baguette.

There comes a time in every baker's life when (s)he breathes in the air wafting from the oven and just knows that something has gone right. Hopefully this happens nearly every time, but I have to admit that bread is the best. 


No, it's really not the same as when you toast something (especially when the toaster sets a flame). There's an olfactory warmth flooding every kitchen-connected corridor that can make even the least spiritual person have visions of heaven. Baking rosemary bread, my friends, is nasal ambrosia.


I bought fresh rosemary from two different vendors at the farmers' market last Saturday. One was hydroponically grown, sold by The Pantry. The other was organically grown in Nepal and sold by Organic Himalaya Produce. Of course I compulsively sniffed the herb bouquets while wandering the market, dazzled by how the little bunch from OHP was far more fragrant than the sapling-esque hydroponically grown variety.

Top: Hydroponically grown rosemary, no pesticides used, sold by The Pantry. The bunch was approximately 10" long, with leaves nearly twice the size of any rosemary I'd seen before. The Organic Himalaya Produce vendors took one look and said, "Fertilizers."


Bottom: Organic rosemary from Nepal, grown and sold by Organic Himalayan Produce. The bunch was about 3" long and had normal-sized leaves. The organic was far more fragrant than the hydroponic when purchased.


Just the day before, I had been day dreaming about rosemary bread from the Corina Bakery in Tacoma, WA. This had to be fate.


The Corina Bakery site doesn't hint at how their rosemary bread is made, though a casual comment on yelp.com let me to believe the recipe was baguette-based. Those of you that have done your reading know that real baguettes consist of only yeast, water, flour, and salt. That is why my rosemary bread is just rosemary bread and not a rosemary baguette.


I did make a regular baguette along with the two rosemary loaves (does it still count as a baguette if you mix in whole wheat flour?). Apparently a lot of bakers spend a significant amount of time perfecting baguettes, and I can tell that this will invade my life as well. The baguette recipe I used can be found at kingarthurflour.com and some helpful shaping instructions can be found at artisanbreadinfive.com.

This looks a bit too much like stock photography to me, but I wanted to show you how all three loaves look in entirety rather than just texture-ific close-ups.

Rosemary Bread and Plain Baguettes
Adapted from the Baker's Catalogue 2001, posted at kingartherflour.com
Yields 3 loaves


starter:
1/2 C  water
1 C (100g)  bread flour
1/16 tsp  yeast


dough:
starter
1 tsp  yeast
1 C  lukewarm water*
2 C  (200g) bread flour
1 1/2 C (195g)  whole wheat flour
1 1/2 tsp  salt
1 bunch  fresh rosemary (about 5 T per loaf), optional**
coarse salt (to sprinkle on top), optional


*in the original recipe, it says to add 2 T water if you use bread flour, but I found that to be too wet
**I used half as much when I made my bread and it didn't read as well when tasted, so pump it up!

This is what starter looks like after a good sleep.

1. Mix up your starter, cover, and let it sit at room temperature over night. (It'll have a texture similar to that glue-paste you used in kindergarten. Do not be alarmed.)
2. After your starter has had a good sleep, mix the yeast and lukewarm water together. (It won't bubble and froth up like when you give it sugar; totally normal.)
3. Now mix everything, including your swampy-looking starter, and begin kneading on a floured surface. Knead for about 5 minutes, until it's soft and decently smooth.
4. Cover dough with greased plastic wrap and let it rise 1 hour, punch it down and turn it over (picture above right: dough after first rise).
5. Cover it again, let it rise for 2 hours, punch it down and turn it over.
6. On a lightly floured surface, divide your dough into three equal portions and shape into ovals.
7. Cover dough and rest 15 minutes.
8. Take one oval, flatten a bit, sprinkle with 4 T rosemary (optional), and do a three-fold like a business letter or wallet; pinch the first fold into the center and pinch the final flap to seal your roll (click here for shaping help).
9. Gently stretch your roll out to about 12-15", allowing it to rest a few minutes between stretches if it's not compliant. Don't fight the gluten!
10. Repeat this for your other two pieces of dough and set about 2" apart on a lined baking sheet.
11. Cut three long diagonal slashes on the tops, cover with greased plastic wrap, and let rise for an hour or so (you want the loaves puffy but not quite doubled).
12. Preheat the oven to 450F (232C).
13. Brush or sprinkle plain loaves with warm water and brush rosemary loaves with olive oil, sprinkling with 1 T rosemary each and some coarse salt (leave your plain baguettes alone, just the warm water!).
14. Bake about 25 minutes, until the loaves are nice and brown. Remove to racks to cool or just turn off the heat and crack the oven door a couple inches to cool slowly (the slow cooling makes for the crunchiest crust).
15. Enjoy!

Shaped dough before entering the oven.

Rosemary Bread and Plain Baguette Reflections

Rosemary bread with coarse salt, the crispiest and crustiest bread I've made to date. Just look at that torn crust and the assortment of air pockets inside.

As always, bread takes some time and planning. Then again, you're only touching it for a little bit between rising/resting periods, during which you could nap or watch a movie or obsessively search for new recipes. The result, granted nothing goes epically wrong, is lovely.

The smell in the kitchen! In the living room! Everywhere in the apartment that wasn't sealed off from the oven was heaven scent (LOL? A giggle? Anyone?). I have to say that I have never experienced any smell in my life as delicious and heady as fresh baking rosemary bread.

As noted in the recipe, 2 T fresh rosemary worked into the dough and 1 T on top were simply not enough to make the rosemary flavor really read in the bread. Doubling the in-bread rosemary seems like it'll do the trick, and perhaps a quick crush to release the oils a bit more wouldn't hurt.

Organic versus hydroponic rosemary? Surprisingly, our hulky hydroponic rosemary read in the bread a bit better than the organic variety. Strange. I'll let you know how things go with the doubled herbs soon. Also, if anyone sees anything about scratch and sniff pictures via the interweb, let me know, because you would reap the benefits on this one.

One more texture picture to tease you.

Croissants: A Two Day Affair

My first attempt at making croissants. Not too shabby.

I have read in numerous blogs and recipe websites that croissants are the bane of any amateur baker's existence. A recipe that takes two days, several rounds of touching, rolling, and resting, and could possibly end in disaster for any number of missteps would have anyone shaking in their apron. Naturally I decided to throw myself in the deep end.

Sure, I've made a couple of yeast breads before, but never anything as unanimously daunting as croissants. Knowing I wasn't alone in my fear, I went to the blogs to consult my colleagues in the oven. I settled on the recipe at Not So Humble Pie and advice from Gabi on Mamaliga.com.

It wasn't as heart-breaking a process as I thought it would be. The only minor oops was nearly forgetting to feed the yeast. Woooow. I used to make cinnamon rolls at my university every Saturday morning for nearly a year; how could I forget something as basic as giving the yeast sugar to feed on? Well, I didn't really forget to, I just added it later than the recipe said to. I had mixed the dough and thrown it in the fridge when I realized I hadn't added any sugar. "Odd recipe," I thought. I mused over how there could be anything to fuel the yeast for a moment and then reread the recipe. I simply glazed over the word sugar and went about making a yeast dough without it. Silly. I took the dough out, sprinkled sugar on it, and spun it in the mixer for another minute before sending it back to the fridge for a good sleep.

The croissants actually came out nicely! I halved the recipe because I know the Resident Taste Tester and I do not need eleven full size croissants lurking in the kitchen.

When I took half the dough and made four croissants, I thought they seemed rather large even before they had gone through the last rising phase. They were absolutely  massive by the time they came out of the oven. Unfortunately, the insides were a bit too moist (cooked, no doubt, but heavy with butter) while the outsides were beautiful. I decided to make eight croissants with the remaining dough and these proportions came out so wonderfully crisp and flaky on the outside while soft, fluffy, and buttery on the inside that several were consumed within minutes of hitting the rack to cool.

Croissants

Originally from the CIA, adapted by Not So Humble Pie, and loosely interpreted by me*

Yields 16 croissants

358g (1.5 C)  whole milk, room temperature

14g (1/2oz or 4 1/2 tsp)  yeast

453g (4 C)  bread flour

56g (heaping 1/2 C)  sugar

10g (1 1/2 tsp)  salt (not in the original recipe, but I think it improves it)

40mL (2 T)  molasses (substituted for malt syrup)

71g (heaping 1/2 C) butter, cold but pliable

Roll in:

226g (2/3 C) butter, cold but pliable

Egg wash:

1 egg + 3 T whole milk, beaten

Flour, for rolling out dough

* Volume measurements in parentheses are approximate

1.  Mix the yeast and room temperature milk; set aside for 10 minutes.

2.  Pound the cold butter in a plastic bag (or between sheets of wax paper, etc.) with a rolling pin until pliable (you'll end up with a sheet of butter about a quarter inch thick). If butter becomes too warm, place in freezer until cold again.

3.  Mix flour, salt, and sugar in a large bowl (sift it if you like, but it's not necessary).

4.  Add molasses to the flour mix and cut in the cold but pliable butter coarsely by giving it a quick spin on low with the electric mixer.

5.  Pour the yeast-milk mix over everything and mix on low until the dough becomes unwieldy and begins to reach for the sky (it took about 30 seconds for my dough to start creeping up the beaters).

6.  Replace beaters with dough hooks and continue to mix on low for 3 minutes, then turn up to high and mix for 2 minutes.

7.  Line a baking sheet (that fits in your fridge comfortably) and spread out dough evenly.

8.  Cover with plastic wrap and press out all air bubbles (to prevent strange crusting) before placing it in the fridge for 5+ hours (over night is perfectly acceptable).

9.  Place the cold butter for the roll in between sheets of wax paper or in a plastic bag and beat with the rolling pin until it is a pliable sheet about 9"x13" (slightly larger or smaller is fine). Return it to the fridge to keep cold until you're dough has finished it's 5+ hours in the fridge (you can do this just before you roll out your dough in the next step, but make sure it's cold).

10.  Remove dough from the fridge (it will be less sticky and a bit more puffy than it was 5+ hours ago) and roll out with a pin to about 13"x18" on a well-floured surface (always have flour handy when rolling out the dough to prevent sticking).

11. Now begins the three-part folds and short rests section. Place your cold but pliable roll in butter on your dough and fold the sides of the dough over to cover the butter.

This is sort of what a four-fold looks like. Not perfect, but it will do.

This is a three-fold, and the Resident Taste Tester in the background.

11a.  Roll the dough out to about 13"x18" and fold the ends to the middle and fold again like you are closing a book (see four-fold above). Cover and seal with plastic wrap and return to fridge for 30 minutes.

11b.  Roll out dough again to about 13"x18" and do a three-fold like a business letter or men's wallet (see three-fold above). Cover and seal with plastic wrap and return to fridge for another 30 minutes.

11c.  Roll out dough yet again to about 13"x18", repeat the three-fold, and place in the fridge for the final time for two hours.

12.  Now you can begin to make pretty little crescent shapes. Roll out dough to about 9"x20" and cut into four equal size rectangles. Set three in the fridge (wrapped in plastic of course).

If Bob Ross was baking these, he would call them happy little triangles.

You can see all the layers we folded and rolled in. Happy little triangles indeed.

12a.  Roll out one rectangle to a square (a bit larger than 9"x9") and cut in half to make two rectangles. Cut diagonally across both rectangles to make four triangles.

12b.  Cut a 1" slit at the base of each triangle (the shorter side of the right angle) and roll tightly towards the far tip, stretching the dough as you roll.

12c.  Place rolled dough on a baking sheet (I always line with silicone baking mats), turn in corners slightly to make a crescent shape, and brush with an egg wash. Repeat 12a-c for the rest of the dough, placing 8 or so croissants on each baking sheet and allow to rest for 1 hour at room temperature (until nearly doubled in size).

13.  Preheat oven to 375 F (191 C), do one more egg wash, and bake for 16-20 minutes until nicely brown.

14. Remove to rack and cool (five minutes is generally enough time to cool them so you don't burn your tongue, but use your best judgement).

14. Enjoy!

Croissant Reflections

Croissants basking in the Singapore sun.

I found that the amount of butter originally to roll in was waaay too much for me; the croissants bled butter in the oven partway through and swam in it until they finished baking. Not a terrible thing, just sort of horrifying. The amount of roll in butter I list is reduced by one third.

The original recipe also didn't have any salt in it; I used about half salted and half unsalted butter when I made them and I think they could use a teaspoon or two of salt (while using unsalted butter) to punch things up a bit.

You really have to get the portions and timing right to get perfectly crisp, flaky, brown croissants on the outside and fluffy, soft, layers upon layers of yum on the inside. Experiment a bit and granted yours don't burn, you'll have delectable, rich croissants and an air of buttery bread throughout your home for a couple of days.

Lovely flaky layers glistening in the early afternoon light. Perhaps all the butter will deepen that tan.