Caneton aux Peches et Mousseline au Chocolat avec Creme Anglaise

I just finished Julia Child's and Alex Prud'homme's memoir "My Life in France," as I might of mentioned before. Julia's descriptions of the dishes that she encountered were so detailed and scrumptious that I had to eat while I read her book so as not to feel envious of her gustatory delight. But more amazing than her recipes was her love of France and of her husband.

She discovered the three things that gave her a purpose to live: Paris, Paul Child, and la cuisine bourgeoise and in doing so changed the world. Her book was a love story to all three, but it was also her journey, forging her way on her own through a world that her family didn't agree with and that she herself didn't always care for. She doubted their near bondage to Paul's government job and fantasized about a life dedicated only to cooking and photography.

But she was able to remain steadfast in the face of their endless relocations because of her purpose, sense of self, and as she would say, "courage of [her] conviction." I was impressed by the understanding she had that this was the right place for her to be on Earth and the right thing for her to be doing. So inspired was I by her memoir and by my forty-fifth viewing of "Julie and Julia", that I decided to finally make a dinner and dessert solo from "Mastering the Art of French Cooking."

I knew the backstory to so many dishes that it was difficult to choose, but I settled on Caneton aux Peches et Mousseline au Chocolat avec Creme Anglaise (Roast Duck with Peaches and Chocolate Mousse with Custard). I'm going off to college today and I wanted to try to make a really grownup dinner by myself before I left. I pictured myself as an adult cooking dinner as if it were commonplace when in fact, I'd never really cooked meat before and certainly never duck!

But here goes. Julia's recipe was for 5-6 people and she called for a 5 1/2 lb duckling but I was only making dinner for two so I opted for one duck breast weighing 1 lb. Thus, this recipe is scaled down a bit. First I preheated the oven to 425 F. I put a few dashes of salt and one dash of pepper on the duck, breast up (fat on top) in a roasting pan, and then added a bit of thyme, 1/4 of a diced shallot and 1/5 of a chopped carrot.

I put the pan in the oven (she calls for the middle rack) for 15 minutes. Then I turned the temperature down to 350 F and roasted it for 30 more minutes. Make sure that the fat doesn't burn and from time to time remove some of the fat that has accumulated on the bottom of the dish (this didn't happen for me). Julia estimated that the duck would take 1 hour and 20 minutes give or take, but mine was very well done at that point and I would recommend removing it 15 minutes or more before the 80 minute mark (you can check by cutting duck a bit and observing its color).

In the last 15 minutes you can add some more salt. When the duck is done, leave it in the oven and begin the sauce. This step is very important and patience is required. Spoon out the the juices into a pot (do not tilt the roasting pan to pour it, take my word for it). Then add 1 1/2 cups of beef or brown duck stock to the pot and boil it, letting it reduce by half or less.

While the duck was cooking, you should peel and slice 2 large peaches and put them in a fireproof dish. Coat them with 2 tbs lemon juice, 3 tbs sherry, and 2 tbs sugar. After the sauce has reduced, pour it over the peaches and their sauce, which should now be in a new pot and cook below simmer for about 3 minutes to poach the peaches.

She recommends using a slotted spoon to remove the peaches and arranging them around the duck. Then bring this new sauce to a boil and reduce it by half and add 2 tbs butter. Fin! (I'm using exclamation points in Julia's honor as she seemed quite fond of the little buggers in her book). The duck was delicious by the way and not nearly as messy as some other experiences I've had with the birds. For the Chocolate mousse, I beat 4 egg yolks in a ceramic bowl with 3/4 cup sugar and then added 1/4 cup Grand Marnier.

Then I placed it over water on the lowest possible setting in a pot and stirred it until there was foam and the mixture was hot. This never quite happened for me, possibly due to the thickness of my bowl. Then I did the same process (beating with a whisk) over a bath of cold water until as Julia puts it, "It has the consistency of mayonnaise." I melted 6 oz of semi-sweet chocolate and once that was done added 1 1/2 sticks of butter, a bit at a time until they melted.

I whisked the chocolate mixture into the egg yolk and sugar bowl until they were incorporated. Next, I beat 4 egg whites, added 1 tbs sugar and continued beating until I had stiff peaks. I stirred 1/4 of the egg whites into the mousse and then folded the remainder in. This should be refrigerated for a minimum of 2 hours and makes about 5 1/2 cups.

Lastly, I made the custard sauce by whisking 1/2 cup of sugar with 4 egg yolks. Then I poured in 1 3/4 cups of boiling milk and whisked vigorously so as not to have scrambled eggs. I added the custard to a pot and beat it over medium heat (keep your eyes on this part).

The final product should be mildly thick and should never get over 165 F otherwise the egg cooks too much. I finished by straining the custard through a sieve and added 1 tsp Grand Marnier (or vanilla extract). You should let this chill until you're ready to serve the mousse. The custard cut the sweetness of the mousse and all was good with the world. Off to Baltimore now.

The Trials and Tribulations of Nika's Maiden Catering Voyage

Cucumber Soup, Quiche Lorraine, Watermelon and Cucumber Salad, Cardamom Ice Cream, Lemonade and Chocolate Salted Caramel Cake

When my mother mentioned a month ago that she wanted to have an "indoor" garden party for her upcoming birthday, I eagerly offered my catering services to her and planned out an audacious or rather aspirational menu including all of the delectables from the title plus watermelon sorbet and stracciatella (but no cardamom ice cream).

I was so thrilled about the dinner party and perhaps I thought that the energy from my excitement would be my assistant chef. Suffice it to say, I now have a new found respect for caterers. I realize that I left much of my cooking to the last minute as a result of a busy schedule and my only helper was a 9 year old girl (who turned out to be really, really helpful), but still man, it's hard.

To begin, I forgot my ice cream maker at my dad's house and thus had to rely on previously made cardamom ice cream (luckily there was plenty for our 13 guests). Dissappointed, I vowed to make up for the lack of the two promised flavors with a delicious cake. Here's where it gets trickier. I apparently am not skilled in the least when it comes to making layered cakes.

I don't know if the problem lies in my imperfectly shaped pie plates (which are not perfect cylinders since they're for pies) or in my general layering ineptitude, but my three tiered chocolate cake from Martha Stuart's website decided to spontaneously become the leaning tower of pisa.

I thought cursing loudly enough at it would scare it into being vertical again, but it only continued to slide and made no argument when I began taking fistfuls of the top layer and chucking them into the garbage...vehemently. But let me back track for a minute. I began making the cake on a Friday night after 7 hours of slicing mouse brains on a machine called a cryostat 14 microns thick.

I was really, really tired and so not in the mood for more scientific experiments, which this cake turned out to be. I began by making the caramel, which was supposed to be the glue that held the layers of cake together. This worked perfectly and allowed me to use my candy thermometer for the first time.

To begin, add 4 cups of sugar, 1/4 cup of water and 1/4 cup light corn syrup to a pot and put it on high. Mix it in the beginning to incorporate the ingredients but then just let it sit until it becomes a dark amber (around 15-20 minutes). Then remove the pot from the burner and pour in 2 cups of cream (careful of any splatter).

Put the pot back on the burner and wait until your candy thermometer reads 238 F (maybe 3-5 min). Then pour the liquid into a glass or metal bowl (no plastic, it's really hot), wait for about 5-10 minutes and then add one tablespoon of butter at a time until you've added 1 cup and 1 tsp of sea salt. I put it in the refridgerator to thicken and harden and moved onto the batter.

Be warned: this recipe makes 3 individual cakes, even though mine was only 2 layers (read on). First, I poured 3 cups of flour, 3 cups of sugar, 1 1/2 cups cocoa powder, 1 tbs baking soda, 1 1/2 tsp baking powder, and 1 1/2 tsp sea salt into the bowl of my mixer. I used the mixer on a low setting to incorporate all the dry ingredients.  Then I added 1 1/2 cups warm water, 4 eggs, 2 tsp vanilla extract, 1 1/2 cups buttermilk and 1/2 cup plus 2 tbs of safflower oil.

Mix this until all the ingredients are incorporated and then divide into 3 buttered and floured tins and put them in the oven at 350 F for 3 minutes. I might add that due to our lack of counter space and my helper's height, I placed a foldable wooden table behind me in the kitchen for her to work on. I went to open the oven to check on the progress of the cakes, and instead knocked over the table with my rear end, sending the bowl of cocoa powder mixed with water onto the rug and back of the couch.

I also managed during dinner to knock over my mother's limonata, which was sitting precariously on the carpet. Slapstick aside, I moved on to the frosting using Martha Stuart's recipe included in her instructions for the cake. She said that you could put it in the fridge overnight until you were ready to frost the cake, but the next morning, I discovered that the frosting had hardened in the bowl in a way that forced me to melt it out so I could clean the bowl and start over.

This time, I used Tea and Sympathy's trusted recipe for frosting, which called for 8 tbs milk, 1/2 cup of butter creamed, 1 cup melted semi-sweet chocolate chips, a few dashes of salt and 3 1/2 cups of confectioner's sugar. The frosting worked perfectly. It was Saturday around 11 AM, with guests arriving in 4 hours when I decided to put the cake together.

I carefully cut the cakes out of their tins and flipped the first one onto a plate. Success. I took some caramel on a plastic spatula after letting it thaw until it was spreadable, and began to swirl caramel about the surface of the cake. I flipped the second layer on top and it seemed to be going smoothly. Again, I frosted the surface with caramel and added the last layer.

I am pretty good with science, and I say that because I have no explanation for what happened next, but the caramel seemed to melt when the last layer was put on as if it was having some sort of phase reaction with the chocolate (which was completely cooled overnight). Anyway, the entire bloody mess started to lean over and the caramel started to drip down onto the table and I began to reason with the cake.

Me: Fine, you want to do it this way? Cake: Apparently. That brings us back to the beginning of the story, in which I threw away a perfectly delicious layer of cake and in doing this unspeakable crime, managed to save my now two-story building.

It leaned slightly, but it was safe and I immediately put it back in the fridge as if to halt the caramel's melt down and mine.  When I felt it was time, I frosted the cake and one would never know the energy spent on it. I could hear Julia Child's voice in my head (I just finished her memoir, My Life in France), saying, "One of the secrets, and pleasures, of cooking is to learn to correct something if it goes awry; and one of the lessons is to grin and bear it if it cannot be fixed.”

Luckily I fixed this cake, with a lot of emotional cheering on from my mom and helper cook. We finally moved onto the quiche, now with three hours until humans arrived, and I designated tasks. My mom would cook one package of bacon and my helper would crack the 12 eggs needed for my 3 quiches, while I made the crust. Crack 12 eggs into a bowl and whisk until frothy. Then add 3 cups of cream (I used 2 cups plus 1 cup of half and half, and this worked fine). 

Then you must chop up three 8 oz packages of Gruyere cheese and add that to the cream and egg mixture. When the bacon is done, crumple it with your fingers and add it to the mix along with a few healthy dashes of basil and some pepper. Mix it all together a bit more and move on to the crust. I used Rose Bakery's recipe for shortcrust pastry involving 3 1/3 cups of flour and 1 cup of butter kneaded together. 

Then add 1 egg yolk and use a fork to incorporate the ingredients and a bit of ice cold water until the dough is kneadable but by no means sticky. Put it in the fridge for 30 minutes. When the 30 minutes was up, I rolled out the dough onto floured wax paper and flipped it into the pie plate. 

I poured in the batter, added a few shakes of parmesan cheese and put it in the oven for 20 min at 425 C and 35 min at 325 F. The quiche worked beautifully even though I dropped one further into the oven on the way out of the oven; which I managed to salvage with only a minor burn. 

While the quiche was cooking, I made the cucumber soup and cucumber and watermelon salad to be served with the quiche. My helper peeled and chopped all the cucumbers. The soup required 5 cucumbers, about 1 cup of minced cilantro (fresh), 1 minced jalapeno, 1 1/2 cups or so of sour cream (taste as you add), 3/4 clove of garlic, the juice from 2 limes, 1 tsp salt and 1/4 tsp black pepper. 

Add the vegetables and seasonings (not the sour cream) to the blender gradually until it is pureed and then once it is done pour it into a bowl, add the sour cream, mix until incorporated and then chill. I used our nifty ninja blender and it made enough for 2 small bowls per guest. 

I also made croutons to go along with the soup by chopping up some Italian bread into bite sized cubes, drizzling them with olive oil and a bit of oregano and putting them in the oven at 375 for about 18-20 minutes or until they were golden brown (depends entirely on your oven and their size). 

My mom chopped up the watermelon (about 1/2 a melon) for the salad and my helper added 3 diced cucumbers to the mix meanwhile I squeezed two limes and sprinkled a sprig of mint onto the salad and mixed it up. I had eaten the salad previously at a southern restaurant in Williamsburg, Brooklyn called Pies and Thighs. 

The lime juice changes the flavor of both fruits and takes away a bit of the sweetness. It lasted for about 3 days. Finally, I made lemonade using 20 lemons and a lot of water and sugar. I like lemonade to be lemony and even though I poured some concentrated mixture into a bowl and diluted the liquid in the pitcher, it was still pretty damn tart. 

Everyone seemed to love it though, leaving the Limonatas and Aranciatas untouched and it provided a wonderful companion to the chocolate caramel cake. 

I won't go into the details of making cardamom ice cream since I already have, but it too was delicious. In the end, it all worked out so perfectly that I forgot how frustrating the process was and the paper lanterns we strung from our ceiling danced above our guests dining on quiche and cucumber soup all evening long. 

Happy Birthday Mommy!

Alfajores Blancos y Negros

I was on Nantucket a few weeks ago and after having disappointing meal after disappointing meal, I finally found a restaurant called Corazon del Mar that served a myriad of Latin dishes including (what we ordered) Argentinean steak with roasted yucca, a country-less pork with fried plantains and some sort of jalapeño sauce and churros con chocolate.

There was something so wonderfully exotic and tropical about this food and I started to research South American desserts when I returned home. I've been having baker's block lately, especially when I am asked to make something for a group of people.

When I'm at home, in the comfort of my kitchen, it's like rallying in tennis. No swing is too big and no miss is too embarrassing. But cooking for a crowd brings the timidity and rigidity that playing for points does. I tend to go with tried and true recipes that I know will work and will taste delicious, and rarely find the opportunity once I'm done with that on weekends to experiment the way I would like to.

But I was really tired of European and American desserts, so I found a recipe for a classic Latin American cookie called alfajor. They are similar to shortbread, albeit they have markedly less butter, except that you sandwich two cookies with dulce de leche in the middle and dip half the cookie in chocolate sauce. Yes. There is butter, caramel with spice and chocolate all on one vector.

Lots of elements could be improved, but I managed to create dulce de leche from 1 quart of whole milk, 1 1/2 cups of sugar and 1/2 tsp baking soda. I put all the elements in together and simmered the milk until the sugar had dissolved.

Then I left it on the lowest flame possible for a total of 3 hours with supplemented 30 second intervals in the microwave due to my impatience. This thickens quite a lot in the fridge when you're cooling it, but I still would try a different recipe because it was not thick as it should have been.

Nonetheless, before I removed it from the pot, I added 1/8 tsp cloves, 1/8 tsp nutmeg, 1/4 tsp cinnamon and 1/4 tsp cardamom and stirred it all together. As for the cookies, they're a bit like shortcrust pastry but with less sugar and no eggs.

I combined 2 cups of flour with 1/4 cup confectioner's sugar and 1 cup of butter and kneaded it until it was incorporated in a big ball of dough. I refrigerated this for about 30 minutes because of the humidity and then rolled it out until it was the appropriate width for a cookie (1/8 inch). 

I used a glass with a 2 inch diameter to measure out the cookies and put on them a buttered tin in the oven at 350 F for 15 minutes (may need up to 20 depending on your oven). I let them cool (be careful they are very flaky when you pick them up and may crumble easily).

Alfajores can be dipped in chocolate too, so I melted 2 packets of unsweetened baker's chocolate and added a few tablespoons of confectioner's sugar and cream. However, I would instead, either use semi-sweet chocolate so you don't thicken it with sugar, or make a chocolate ganache (before it hardens).

Anyway, I dipped half the cookie in the chocolate spread and then put about 1/2 tsp of the dulce de leche onto one cookie and made a sandwich.

Keep them in the refrigerator, at least in the summer, since the dulce de leche oozes out of the sides if it's not thick enough. They are surprisingly delicious and have a unique texture, almost like a small tart. Good on a hot summer night with a tall glass of milk.