Madeleines

Having purchased my longed-for Madeleine baking pan, I finally made the delicate cookie-cakes a few days ago.  No one, on either side of the family, has ever made Madeleines, so I had no idea what to expect.  The only thing I had to go on was my memory of how incredibly delightful were the Madeleines made by the mom of my dear friend, Christine.  I carefully followed the recipe below:

2 large eggs

2/3 cup granulated sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1/2 teaspoon lemon zest

pinch of salt

1 cup all-purpose flour

10 tablespoons (1 1/4 sticks) of unsalted butter, melted, and slightly cooled

powdered sugar

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.  Spray Madeleine pan with cooking spray or generously butter.  Using electric mixer, beat the eggs and 2/3 cup of sugar in a large bowl just until blended.  Beat in vanilla, lemon zest and salt.  Add flour; beat just until blended.  Gradually add cooled melted butter in a steady stream, beating until just blended.

NOTE:  At this point, I freaked out a little, as my “cookie-ish” batter suddenly turned in a runnier “cakey” batter.  I tried to have a little faith in myself, and after baking the first batch, I realized that is what is supposed to happen to the batter.

Carefully spoon batter into each Madeleine indentation in the pan, like this:

Bake until puffed and browned around the edges: 6-8 minutes for small Madeleines, 14-16 minutes for large Madeleines.  Cool for 5 minutes, then gently remove each Madeleine from the pan.  Repeat the process, spraying or buttering the pan before each batch.

For a final, yummy flair, dust the cooled Madeleines with powdered sugar.  Now, my mom has this gorgeous, scalloped China plate with exquisite little blue flowers on it, and I dug it out.  See, I believe that elegant little cookie-cakes deserve an elegant presentation.

These are so light and delightful and go fabulously with black coffee or tea.  It is not possible to eat just one.

The potato saga continues…

So, Friday was the loaded baked potato bar day at my mom’s school.  She was in charge of the baked potatoes, so she got up Friday morning and baked off 42 potatoes.  Then school was cancelled because of icy streets.  Yeah.  My family was stuck with 42 baked potatoes.  Mama made a massive pot of loaded baked potato soup, which was divine, but we cannot get through it all.  Then, she scooped out the innards of the remaining potatoes and froze the skins for loaded potato skins to enjoy during the Super Bowl, which the Colts will win.  Now, all we had left was a large bowl of potato guts, defiantly taking up too much room in the fridge.  So, yesterday I made mashed potato rolls.  Now, they aren’t the most perfect-looking rolls, but oh-my-goodness are they buttery, oh-so-soft, and delicious.

Potato Rolls

2/3 cup of granulated sugar

2/3 cup room-temperature butter

1 cup mashed potatoes (not instant; real stuff makes a difference!)

2-1/2 teaspoons salt

2 eggs

2 packages (1/4 oz. each) active dry yeast

1-1/3 cups warm water, divided

6 to 6-1/2 cups all-purpose flour

In a large mixing bowl, cream the sugar and the butter.  Add potatoes, salt and eggs.  In a small bowl, dissolve the yeast in 2/3 cup of the warm water; add to creamed mixture.  At this point, your batter may look strange.  Beat in 2 cups of flour and the remaining warm water.  Continue to add flour until a soft dough forms.  Shape it into a ball; do not knead.  Place in a greased bowl, turning once to grease the top.  Cover and let dough rise in a warm place until doubled, about 1 hour.  Punch dough down; roll scoops of dough into balls and arrange in either 9-inch round baking pans, a greased jelly roll pan, or a glass baking dish.  Cover and let rise until doubled, about 30 minutes.  Bake the rolls at 375 degrees for 20-25 minutes.  Remove from the pans to cool on wire racks.  This recipe yields about 45 rolls, depending on the size you make them.

Cookies

For most of my childhood and beyond, one Friday or Saturday in December has been set aside for Christmas cookie baking.  Sometimes Nana and Papa would drive down and join us, but it was always Mama and my younger siblings, baking from mid-morning until mid-afternoon.  We always make far more than necessary, far more than anyone will eat.  Dad and I prefer the gingerbreads, my brother cares for only the M&Ms cookies (the only candy the boy eats is M&Ms), my sister’s favorite is called Snowy Mountain Tops, and Mama just likes dessert in general.

Snowy Mountain Tops, while the least popular to eat due to their richness, are the most fun to make:  chocolate dough, mixed from scratch is refrigerated.  Spoonfuls are then rolled quickly into a ball and flattened into an even disc.  A Hershey kiss is nestled into the center and the edges of the dough are gathered around, encasing the kiss, creating a mountain peak.  After baking and cooling, the tips of the mountains are dipped on confectioner’s sugar, creating “snowy” mountain tops.  One year, while baking in the oven, all the Snowy Mountain Tops shifted on the baking sheet into two rigid mountain ranges, leading from one corner of the baking sheet to the other.  It was both bizarre and awesome.

I think my love for the tedious baking-from-scratch was ignited and nurtured through this tradition of Christmas cookie baking.  Even if you throw out most of the cookies in the end, try baking them from scratch this year.  You may find it quite fulfilling.

Time is All Around

Have you noticed that the leaves are not changing color this year?  Perhaps they are wherever you are, but here the leaves are not slowly draining their chlorophyll, revealing the deep reds and oranges and the golden hues that make autumn so beautiful.  They are simply giving up quickly, shriveling into brown crunchy wads and relinquishing their hold on the branches.  Autumn, with its permanently gray skies and weary leaves feels much more like death this year.

To overcome the melancholy, I began baking cookies.  Cooking and baking, especially those methodic recipes that take time and extra care, are two things that are quite therapeutic.  I doubled the recipe, allowing many extra confections to be packaged up and given to people I love.  The bowl was almost not big enough for the massive amount of pumpkin spice batter.

I was hot, so I cranked open the kitchen window.  Have you ever noticed how clean the air in autumn smells, even though all the plants are dying?

I carefully spooned even scoops of batter onto greased cookie sheets and hovered near the oven.  The moment the timer went off, I would be there, prepared to lovingly retrieve the little, warm cookies from their sweltering incubator.  Soon, the house was filled with the aroma of pumpkin, cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves.  It wasn’t only the cookies I could smell; I could sense comfort and bon-fires and holidays and all of the good things that autumn offers.

It may be a time when nature prepares for a cold, deep sleep, but autumn is my favorite time of the year for drawing warmth from memories, especially those triggered by the slow bake of cookies.