Daring Bakers in May: Amarula Croquembouche

The May 2010 Daring Bakers’ challenge was hosted by Cat of Little Miss Cupcake. Cat challenged everyone to make a piece montée, or croquembouche, based on recipes from Peter Kump’s Baking School in Manhattan and Nick Malgieri.



A croquembouche (french for "crunch in mouth") is a dramatic dessert made of an arrangement of profiteroles held together by a caramel glaze.  I've been wanting to try my hand at choux pastry for a while now, so I was very excited to read about this month's challenge!  Choux is an unusual pastry that is cooked on the stove top,  and then piped into the appropriate shapes for baking (either balls, which become profiteroles when filled with cream, or longer stripes which turn into eclairs).

My pastry turned out quite runny and loose, which translated into groans of distress when my first batch of UFO-shaped puffs emerged from the oven.  Some hastily added spoonfuls of flour later, the situation had improved substantially...



...and my beautifully rounded puffs meant that a croquembouche might materialize after all.

Strawberry-Sour Cream Ice Cream

Anybody who's chatted with me about food in the last month or so knows by now that... I bought an ice cream maker! (Yes, I am that excited about it.)  I was going to go for an inexpensive one, but my dad, who has worked for an international food company for 30 years and knows a thing or two about making ice cream, wrinkled his nose at the little model I showed him.   Of course, compared to a huge factory any home machine will look like a joke, but his promises of far-superior ice cream did convince me to invest a little more money and purchase a machine with a built-in compressor that self-cools (versus freezing the canister 24 hours in advance).

I wish I could be telling you about this ice cream in the middle of a warm, sunny, spring that would be appropriate to ice cream reading and eating.  Alas, I cannot.  Zurich hasn't seen the sun yet in the month of May and according to the weather forecast, it's going to be staying gray and rainy this week, too.   Thank goodness I have an apartment that's always warm, no matter the time of year, so I can ignore the fact that it's only 12 degrees outside and sneak bites from the freezer with no ill effects.



Quite the opposite, actually. Despite the weather, strawberries from canton Thurgau have heralded spring at the store for a couple weeks now, and oh, how delicious they are. Combining them with sour cream to make this frozen delight helps them to stick around a little longer since any I buy last less than a day with my strawberry-gobbling husband around! I don't like store-bought strawberry ice cream because it always tastes so fake, but using real strawberries make it a whole different story, like a frozen smoothie.  This ice cream is also a lighter than others since it doesn't require any egg yolks, and the sour cream adds a lovely tanginess that cuts against the sweetness of the fruit.

I fully admit this recipe is not mine - thanks, David Lebovitz! I couldn't buy an ice cream maker and not do a leetle Amazon ordering to go along with it, could I? David's fun and original recipes, great photos, metric conversions on every recipe (love this - he lives in Paris and understands how much easier this makes baking in Europe!), and quirky writing make his book The Perfect Scoop the absolute stand-out of the three I picked up.



Here's to spring and sunshine coming back soon!

Strawberry-Sour Cream Ice Cream
from The Perfect Scoop, by David Lebovitz

450 grams fresh strawberries, rinsed and hulled
150 grams sugar
1 tbsp vodka or kirsch (I used 3 tbsp kirsch... because I like kirsch.)
240 grams sour cream
250 ml heavy cream
1/2 teaspoon freshly squeezed lemon juice

Slice the strawberries and toss them in a bowl with the sugar and vodka or kirsch, stirring until the sugar begins to dissolve. Cover and let stand at room temperature for 1 hour, stirring every so often.

Pulse the strawberries and their liquid with the sour cream, heavy cream, and lemon juice in a blender or food processor until almost smooth but still slightly chunky. Refrigerate for 1 hour, then freeze in your ice cream maker according to the manufacturer’s instructions.

Easter Over Cappadocia

Don't look at me that way, blog.  I know I've been neglecting you.  I realize that three posts in the month of April was really pathetic, and that Easter was a long time ago, and that I've only given you a sticky toffee pudding to survive on for weeks on end. I went on holiday, you see. And then I fell off a bike and was busy growing new skin for a while. And then spring sprung, and I spent my evenings drinking spritzers in the sunshine instead of sitting at my computer.  And then I started my new job on Monday, and quit my new job on Wednesday, and went back to my old job on Thursday. And now I had a quiet weekend and a clean house and feel a little less shaken up, so it's finally time to share a wonderful adventure we had in Turkey with you.  It's worth the wait, I promise!

***

The village of Göreme was still asleep when we were picked up at six am on Easter Sunday.  The bluish blush of dawn brightened the landscape only enough to see outlines as our van took the one twisty road out of town. Ten minutes later we rounded a particularly large rock, and my usual morning grogginess suddenly vanished at the breathtaking sight of forty hot air balloons silhouetted against the morning sky.  Some were already upright, others lay misshaped with their bellies still on the ground like colorful whales.



Cappadocia is a region in central Turkey known for its incredible rock formations - and for its hot-air balloons, much-beloved by visitors for the stunning views they afford of the volcanic valleys and cliffs eroded into other-worldly landscapes.   After a cup of steaming tea, we clambered awkwardly into the chest-high basket of our blue-and-pink checkered balloon.  I was so enthralled watching the preparations and take-offs of the other balloons that I barely noticed when ours left the ground.  There was no sensation of movement or force, just an occasional roar as our pilot fired the burners keeping us afloat, and then absolute silence as we drifted through the air like magic.