Cardamom Rose Nougat

One of my greatest joys as a college student holed away in a study hall, away from the creature comforts that sit hundreds of miles away in Brooklyn, is receiving care packages.

Luckily I have quite a creative family, and on occasion I've been sent Mast Brothers Chocolate, a small cutting board with a skull on it, a book of New York short stories and my absolute favorite, a tin full of cardamom nougat from Sahadi's, a Middle Eastern deli on Atlantic Avenue I know I've raved about on this blog before. My grandmother is the one who sends them to me, and I sit there like Edmund Pevensie (I know his Achille's heel was Turkish delight, but really there is little difference), chewing on my sweeties, ready to sacrifice my sisters and brother to the white witch for another bite of candy and sip of cocoa.

They are filled with pistachios and almonds and of course cardamom. My cardamom obsession has reached new heights at school where a jar of it sits on my windowsill ready to be added to my cup of coffee or bowl of yogurt. It seems a luxurious delicacy after five straight nights of, to quote Sarah Silverman, superfuckingshitty pizza and equally disappointing salad.

I jest, but in all honesty, towards the end of the semester, I'm pretty sure the school stops ordering food and just serves us the leftovers in any creative way they can muster. My jar of cardamom is a hallmark of civility and every time I look at it, I think of this episode of M*A*S*H where BJ Honeycutt is washing a pair of argyle socks.

Hawkeye acknowledges that he's never seen BJ wear the socks before and BJ replies, "You wear them, they get dirty. If you keep washing them, they stay clean forever. They're actually just to remind me of better times. Argyle socks, angora sweaters, Woody Herman, bumbling in rumble seats."

My cardamom serves as my umbilical cord to the city, just as BJ's socks tethered him to Mill Valley, California. So naturally, I fell in love with the nougat that my grandmother sends. Besides the obvious flavor appeal, the texture of the candy is so soft and fluffy, I dreamt the other night that I was sleeping on a mattress of it. I wanted to use my fairy wand to concoct the mysterious sweet and so I set about the task this week armed with my candy thermometer and kitchen aid.

My trials were a bit like Goldilocks and the three bears expect for the 'just right' part. But that said, I am well on my way to making perfect nougat. Although it seems self-evident in hindsight, I was ignorant of the basic rules of candy making. Essentially, the hotter your sugar/corn syrup mixture becomes, the harder your candy is, hence the phases embossed on my thermometer: soft ball, firm ball, hard ball, soft crack, hard crack."

So unfortunately the first time I attempted nougat, it was much, much too hard and the second time I made it, it was so soft that it refused to maintain its own shape without the aid of rolled up wax paper. Luckily, even though the candy is not the perfect consistency, it still tastes delicious and the texture itself, is flawless. Describing this process to people, I feel like an obscure specialist fawning over their subject material with such enthusiasm that their total disconnect from the world is charming rather than disturbing. But if you ever make nougat, you will know what I'm talking about.

The minute you add the sugar/corn syrup mixture to the beaten egg whites and watch the poof of steam as rapidly hardening candy and denaturing egg whites join to become this thick, smooth, gorgeous nourishment, you'll never be able to stop.

Anyhow, even though I heated my sugar to "firm ball", or so goes my thermometer, it was anything but. Still, the nougat was very enjoyable and I now know where to find the in between temperature for next time.

But to begin, I added 2 cups of sugar to 1 1/2 cups of light corn syrup and 1/4 cup of water in a pot. I mixed them until they were incorporated and then turned the burner on medium. You have to watch this process to make sure your sugar doesn't caramelize (that would be way too far)...and stir it off and on. Be careful not to drip too much of this on your counter, because it will harden and stick (use a plate to rest your stirring spoon on).

Once it has reached firm ball or about 275 F, I suggest removing your pot from the flame. While I was cooking my sugar, I whipped 2 egg whites and now you can add the sugar/corn syrup mixture to the egg whites while beating on say, a speed of 4. Now add 2 tsps of ground cardamom, 1 cup of chopped pistachios and 1 tsp of rose water.

Beat until incorporated and them pour your nougat batter into a buttered, floured and tin-foiled tin or roasting dish. Allow it to cool for 1/2 a day and then shape it into balls or cut into blocks. Either way, I suggest rolling the nougat in flour before attempting to shape it because it's extremely sticky.

I then wrapped all of my nougats in squares of wax paper and no one would be the wiser to all of my mistakes...until of course they open it up and have to lick the candy off the paper instead of popping a shapely sphere into their mouths. But still, they're pretty damn delicious.

Grand Marnier Chocolate Ice Cream

In a small parking lot in Roland Park, there is a modest strip mall that Baltimore claims was the very first in America. It boasts a few small businesses and French bistro called "Petit Louis," that might be the closest thing we have nowadays to authentic kitsch.

Since expectations are low when you walk up to its tudor exterior, it has the advantage of not possibly letting its customers down any further. But beyond this, as you open the door, it feels as though you've left Baltimore altogether and taken a transatlantic flight in two steps.

There is a marble fireplace on one wall and half-lampposts resting on wooden dividers around the room. There is no music, and the velvet seats are burgundy and worn. Each time I have gone, I've inevitably sat next to a woman wearing a pillbox hat and small white gloves, pretending just for a minute that she really is on the outskirts of Paris.

And she's not far off. The quality of the food and the sweet, unassuming atmosphere lifts one out of northern Baltimore, half a world away. It was here that I first tried their Grand Marnier chocolate ice cream and became determined to make it when I returned home for winter break.

Here I am, months later, and I kept this promise to myself when I finally made that mouth-watering, ridiculously rich dessert. To begin, I melted 3 oz of semi-sweet chocolate and 1 oz of unsweetened baker's chocolate with 1/2 cup of heavy cream in a small pot on low.

Stir this until all of the chocolate is melted and the mixture is relatively blended. I then turned my attention to a larger saucepan and poured in 2 cups half and half. While that heated (remove from heat before it boils), I added 1 cup of sugar to 1/3 cup unsweetened cocoa powder.

I gradually added this to 8 egg yolks running on a kitchen aid speed of two, until the mixture was homogenous. Then, still on speed 2, I added the chocolate mixture and half and half from before. I added this mixture back to its pot and heated it (again, before it boiled). Transfer your batter to another bowl and add 1.5 cups of heavy cream.

Only then should you add 1/4 cup Grand Marnier, and taste it to make sure the taste is potent enough. Add at your discretion. When your mixture has cooled thoroughly, add it to your ice cream maker and follow instructions. Freeze until you have ice cream! I would make mine a tad creamier, perhaps substituting some of that half and half for regular whipping cream. You can only eat one scoop in a sitting though, so it lasts...

I'll Be Home for Christmas

It has been over three months since my last post, but I've been a little busy with freshman year and not to mention, have not had access to the best of kitchens.

That's not to say that I haven't been cooking, but I haven't been experimenting because of our communal kitchen's limitations, the cost of supplies, and a general lack of time. But every weekend, I make myself dinner and I've baked cookies...twice.

One of my first posts was about Pfeffernusse, the central European spice cookies commonly made around Christmas, and I bring you tidings of Pfeffernuse once again. I am proud to say that despite a mixer, all spice, nutmeg, lemons, extract, decent cinnamon, pepper, and an oven with a door that you can't see through, I managed to make better Pfeffernusse in my dorm than I was able to back home.

These cookies were moist and soft, and actually taste quite a bit like my commercial preference, Stella Dora, which seems to have magically disappeared along with eggnog this season.

To begin, I mixed 1 3/4 cup of flour with 1 tsp of baking powder, and then gradually incorporated this into a mixture of 2 eggs, 1/2 cup of butter, 1/2 tsp of every spice (allspice, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves and cardamom), a dash of pepper, vanilla or anise extract and the zest of one lemon.

Cream the butter first, and then fold the dry mixture into the egg mixture and stir until incorporated. I buttered a tin and spooned the cookies onto it, first rolling them into small 1 inch diameter balls (they tend to rise, so space with care).

They bake at 375 for 10 minutes and once they have been removed and allowed to cool for about 5 minutes, roll them in powdered sugar to completely coat the exterior.

I delivered them around my dormitory and saved one or two for my roommate and myself. As I take the first breath since August, I think about all my harried posts before I left for college and look back on myself, only three months younger and know that I've become so much wiser, and so, so much hungrier. Now for some real baking, so stay tuned...

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.