The inside of my mouth stung from the sodium content, eventually requiring half the spread to be scraped off before the bread could be consumed. Not even sweetened condensed milk nor plenty of water could nullify its savoury impact.
1) Mugwort Madeleines
I've been meaning to continue my expedition in Decoding the Decadent. Many, many instances of mindlessly munching on couverture chunks later though, my yearnings had shifted in the direction of a deeper profile - ideally one that was nutty or earthy. The idea of crafting cookies had also been replaced with making madeleines, as the batter could be constructed ahead of time to reduce day-of labour.
To contain the batter within one vessel, I start by melting butter in a heatproof bowl. Sugar and honey are added immediately, taking advantage of the residual heat to assist in their dissolution. After whisking vigorously to incorporate, the eggs and egg yolk are added. Milk and vanilla extract follow, then finally the dry ingredients. As a consequence of forgetting to reduce the total amount of flour to accommodate the addition of mugwort powder, I haphazardly added in a splash of milk to prevent the batter from become too dry and gritty.
- 110 g unsalted butter
- 2 eggs
- 1 egg yolk
- 85 g granulated sugar
- 30 g honey
- 1 tsp vanilla extract
- 15 + 19 = 34 g milk
- 125 g AP flour
- 29 g mugwort powder
- 5 g baking powder
Yield: 25 madeleines
This batter was transferred to a large piping bag and allowed to rest in the fridge overnight (about 12 hours). When morning arrived, the pans were buttered and batter transferred to the countertop to thaw. Due to minimal surface area inside the piping bag, the first few attempts to pipe the batter did not provide favourable results.
Batter that was too cold emerged gritty and rigid. By placing the piping bag on top of a warm stove, the batter was aggressively warmed to enable fluidity. I succeeded in achieving a few beautiful swirls, though rapidly saw dissolution of the butter in the batter, which caused excessive softness and a looser consistency than desired.
Its name may be a bit misleading, but the concept of pairing an exceptionally airy sponge cake with rich, luxurious chocolate ganache arose from a craving for chocolate and a desire for tender-crumbed cake. Truthfully, it is seldom that these textures be paired together. But my curiosity settles not for the conventional, and my kitchen is a playground for experimentation.
Whipped ganache was prepared the evening prior, using an approximate 1:1.5 ratio of heavy cream and chocolate:
- 205 g chocolate couverture (Lindt Surfin)
- 319 g heavy cream
- 212 g heavy cream, for warming
- 107 g heavy cream, cold
- 21 g corn syrup
From previous trials, I commonly found the 1:1 ratio to be too soft for my liking, and upped the quantity of couverture as a consequence. Corn syrup was added to improve glossiness, though the omission of butter in the face of a thicker ganache eventually led to a rather coarse texture after whipping. That said, it frosted like a dream! Not only did it not cause shredding of the delicate cake sponge, but resisted at least five of my amateur attempts at smoothing.
Having received plentiful compliments from my Chinese bakery-inspired Raspberry Mousse Cake, I returned to Sunday's Strawberry Mousse Cake base once more. Composition-wise, the sole deviation was a few drops of almond extract (that ultimately did not materialize in the final product). Baking the entire portion of batter in a 6 in aluminum pan was a process-related variance; results were nevertheless fabulous though.
One could argue that the air bubbles were comparatively less uniform than before, but the airy consistency had been sustained without tremendous effort. It is noted, however, that the surface peeled off by itself after cooling inverted.