Apple Galette

Dear Devon,

Watch out, Zabar's, here I come! I've gotten into the habit of visiting Zabar's in the 7 o'clock hour, when the croissants are marked down 75 cents. I'll pick up two on my way home, and more often than not, croissants aren't the only thing going in my bag. It's one of those places that's absolutely irresistible to anyone with any sensory appreciation. Don't think I'm completely decadent- this only happens once every couple of weeks.

Somehow I got it into my head to make my own morning pastry without having to make puff pastry. Without any real game plan, I set out to make individual-sized galettes, about four inches in diameter. In an SAT verbal-style analogy, galette is to tarte as a English garden is to a French garden. Galettes are a without formal pattern, a bit wild, but with a relaxed elegance derived from combining various elements in one clearly defined space. That being said, I don't usually set out to make galettes. More often than not, they are failed tartes.

I use Julia Child's recipe for pâte sucrée from Mastering the Art of French Cooking, vol. 1. I am still trying to find the best recipe for this stuff. I want one that combines the sweet taste of butter with a light, flaky crumb. It seems that every baker has a recipe for pâte sucrée. I've probably tried a half dozen in the last year or so. Looking back over my cookbooks, a few recipes have ended up marked in red ink, a reminder not to repeat them. Others have been adequate, but ultimately unsatisfying. Julia Child's pâte sucrée comes closest to what I'm searching for. It has a crust that browns beautifully in the oven and is laden with rich, delicious butter. I'm in the habit of using good quality butter- It makes a big difference. If you want the pasty to taste like plastic, use cheap butter; if you want it to transport you to Paris, use a high fat butter.

The recipe is relatively simple. I focus mainly on the crust. The filling takes minutes to prepare. Thinly slice apples and set aside a bowl of cinnamon sugar. No fuss, but maximum tastiness. Apples are the easiest fruit to use because they don't let their juices ooze out like berries or plums. They also retain their shape nicely, so be mindful when arranging your slices.

Taking into account that this is for breakfast, I settle on four small galettes, maybe 3 inches in diameter. You can easily make one large galette, instead, if you like. The crust turns out beautifully. The heady perfume of baking butter fills my kitchen and lungs. Two sets of greedy fingers can barely contain their excitement when the four golden brown galettes come fresh out of the oven. The apples are wonderfully cooked, quietly spiced and lightly sweetened. The soft apples give way to a rich and buttery crust. With each bite, large flakes of crust drop onto the plate, later gathered by butter-soaked fingers.

This definitely breaks the numbing cycle of cereal and coffee.

Apple Galette

1 cup flour
4 oz butter, cubed
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp sugar
1/4 cup ice water

3 small apples, sliced
1 tbsp vanilla sugar
1/4 tsp cinnamon

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Line a baking sheet with silpat or wax paper.

Prepare a acidulated ice water bath (mixture of lemon juice and water). Peel and core apples. Thinly slice them, about 1/8 inch. Dunk slices in water bath to prevent discoloration. When you are ready to assemble the galettes, drain apple slices and pat dry.

In a large bowl, combine flour, sugar, and salt. Add chilled, cubed butter. Toss butter lightly with flour. With your hands or a pastry blender, work and rub the flour into the butter until the pieces of butter are about the size of peas. Drizzle 1/4 cup of ice water. Gently mix until a soft dough forms. Add an additional tablespoon of water if the dough is dry. Turn out onto a clean surface and knead gingerly until the dough is smooth and the butter is completely incorporated. Wrap tightly in plastic wrap. Set in the fridge to chill for about an hour or up to one day.

When ready to use, allow dough to rest at room temp for a few minutes. Lightly flour your work surface and rolling pin. Divide the dough into four equal pieces. Set one piece on your floured surface. Return the remaining three pieces to the fridge. Gently roll the dough into a rough circle, 5 to 6 inches in diameter. Carefully arrange slices in a circular pattern in the center of prepared dough, leaving a one inch border. Sprinkle with 1/4 tablespoon cinnamon sugar (recipe follows). Fold excess dough over the arranged apples. Set on prepared baking sheet and chill in fridge while you prepare the remaining galettes. Bake 30 to 35 minutes, until golden brown.

Cinnamon Sugar: in a small bowl, combine cinnamon with sugar. Mix with a fork until combined. I used vanilla sugar. I always have that on hand. Simply place a used vanilla bean in a container of sugar. Easy and yummy. Great in coffee too!

Venison Stew

Dear Devon,

I apologize for my long silence. And to my downstairs neighbors, I apologize for the resounding bass reverberating through your ceiling. THE PIANO IS HERE!! I haven't done much in the kitchen since its arrival. The move was full of excitement. Picture three unimposing men carrying a 45 inch piano up a narrow staircase. Turns out moving a piano is just like dragging your groceries upstairs - step by step - only a lot slower.

Though my bedroom is chaos, my kitchen is almost perfect (minus the Viking range and dishwasher). Sigh, a girl can dream. The kitchen is equipped with the most anxious smoke detector. Let’s call it the Woody Allen of smoke detectors. Preheating the oven causes general panic; a robust voice booms "fire fire" in 15 second intervals. There is no exhaust fan. I've resorted to propping the front door open with my shoe. I can't stand the heavy smell of oil that lingers in the air after cooking. It soaks into fabrics and into your hair. Febreeze might be the only solution.

Into this kitchen, enters a nice piece of venison. My experience with venison is limited. I've only eaten it three or four times. It's a rarity where I grew up, but I'm starting to hear a lot more about it. The shoulder came frozen and dated courtesy of a friend, who suggested that I prepare it in a stew. I was shocked by how lean the meat was. There were no traces or suggestions of fat. As for the color, it was a shocking dark red. I had never seen meat this shade of dark violet red, almost purple.

I read through a bunch of cookbooks, but no one really had a venison specific recipe. Because I wasn't sure what to expect, I conflated two recipes for beef stew from the Joy of Cooking and Mastering the Art of French Cooking. You know the one that tells you to marinate the meat in a bottle of red wine for eight hours? That's what I chose. I had this bottle of red wine, a Malbec from Argentina, that I received as a present this Christmas. I'm not in the habit of buying wine to bathe meat, so it seemed natural to use this bottle. Because the meat was so lean, I added sausage and bacon for tasty and needed fat. I perfumed the stew with lots of wonderful flavors like garlic, bay leaf, and onions. Black eyed peas and a bag of frozen green peas tossed in the last half hour of cooking added to this flavorful and rich stew.

In total, it takes three days to prepare. I marinate the meat along with carrots and garlic in red wine for 24 hours. The meat emerges almost black and completely wine soaked. The next evening, after finishing my dinner, I begin the cooking process. The stew simmers on the stove for 2 hours. Originally, I wanted to use the oven, but given my problems with the smoke detector, I used the stove top. The upside to the oven is the stew will basically cook itself. The stovetop requires some babysitting. When the meat is fork tender, I turned off the flame and let it cool. I want the stew to rest and to encourage all those wonderful flavors to marry and get richer. Thirty minutes before serving, I reheat the stew on the oven and add the frozen peas and the beans. I serve it on top of starchy egg noodles in wide bowls. I leave a big bowl of chopped parsley on the side for garnish.

The stew is warm, rich, and wonderfully flavorful. The bold wine is perfect for the meat, giving it a nice dark flavor, but without that overwhelming winey taste. The bacon completely melts, marking its presence through the smoky and salty undertones of the stew. Using spicy sausage gives the stew more body and makes a nice contrast to the fork tender venison. I love the addition of the peas. Cooked so they just retain their perky sweetness, each bite is like a bright spark of flavor. I'm in love the stewed carrots. They taste amazing, almost better than the venison. Sweet, soft and succulent, the carrots maintain their shape and absorb all the rich flavors, while still keeping their distinct sweetness. My mother always serves stews over egg noodles, so it is only natural I use them here. Egg noodles provide the perfect backdrop to rich food. They absorb all the bold juices without interfering with the intricately composed main course.

Venison Stew
serves six comfortably

1 1/2 pounds of venison, cubed into 2-inch pieces
2 sausages, sliced
1 onion, cut into wedges
2 carrots, sliced
4 cloves of garlic
1 bottle of red wine
1 bay leaf
2 slices of bacon, chopped
1 cup of cooked beans
1 package frozen green peas
1 cup chicken broth
1 tbsp flour

Cube venison into 2 inch chunks. Peel and cut carrots, roughly the same size as the venison cubes. Crush four cloves of garlic. In a large bowl, mix together venison, carrots, and garlic. Pour in one bottle of red wine or enough to cover the meat. Stir to combine and coat the meat. Cover with plastic wrap and marinate in fridge for at least 8 hours or up to 24 hours. (I marinated for 24 hours). Every few hours, give the marinade a mix.

Drain the meat and pat dry. Strain the marinade and reserve it and the vegetables separately. Heat a large Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Cook chopped bacon. Remove crispy bacon from Dutch oven. Drain off excess oil, leaving about 2 tablespoons of bacon fat. Cook sausages until nicely browned and crispy. Remove and set aside. Brown venison on all sides. You might want to do this in batches to avoid overcrowding. Remove and set aside. Add onions, gently cooking until translucent. Stir in vegetables from marinade and flour. When veggies have nicely browned, add bacon, sausage and venison. Add one bay leaf. Pour in wine marinade and chicken broth. Bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to low and cook, covered, until the meat is fork-tender, 1 1/2 to 2 hours. Salt and pepper as needed. At this stage, I let the stew cool and rest. The other advantage to preparing the stew a day in advance is that it allows the fat to rise to the top and harden, making it easy to skim off. However, this stew had very little fat, so there wasn't much to skim off.

Thirty minutes or so before serving, reheat the stew. Stir in pre-cooked black eyed peas and one bag of frozen peas. Simmer with the lid on until ready to serve.

In a large pot of salted boiling water, cook one large bag of egg noodles.

Tuck into rich, hearty venison stew over a steamy bowl of egg noodles topped with fresh parsley.

Not So Classic Pear Clafoutis

Dear Devon,

Life has been very hectic since Thanksgiving and is about to go crazy all over again. First, a couple of weeks ago, my kitchen was pulled apart by my very capable super, looking for the source of water dripping into the apartment below. It took a week to complete the work. A week and half worth of lost images, thanks to a corrupted memory card, plus the hole where my kitchen sink should have been kept me from posting. Fortunately, both issues have been resolved and I am happily writing to you again.

I saw these cute Seckel pears at the farmers market and had to buy a bagful. I couldn't resist. They were destined for my oven. At first, I thought I would use them in a pear tart. But then I decided they were so special that I needed to try something a bit more adventurous. A few summers ago, I went on a big clafoutis kick. I never made them with the traditional cherries (too much work), but instead substituted blueberries, apples, and sometimes almonds. The results were always the same--delicious.


In the past, The Joy of Cooking's recipe served me well. This time, I followed Julia Child's recipe from Mastering the Art of French Cooking. Her recipe is a bit more complicated. If I had read the instructions through to the end, I would've discovered that she wants you to start the cooking the dessert on the stove and finish it in the oven. Of course, I didn't notice this until I had already put the pan into the oven. I don't think it affected the outcome.


It has been a year or two since I made clafoutis. I remembered it to be more like a pancake than a custard. I won't say I was disappointed, but it's hard to overcome an expectation. The subtle flavor of the pear and sweet egg and milk custard were wonderful in combination. The almonds gave a nice bit of crunch to an otherwise smooth and delicate dessert. Unlike a custard, the clafoutis lacked the overwhelming brightness of egg yolk. While egg yolk would have enhanced its richness, I feel it also would have overpowered the soft pear flavor. It would be a shame to destroy the light and clean taste of pear, especially when flavorful pears are so hard to find. I did not have enough milk and used a combination of whole milk yogurt and whole milk.

I have no objections to the Joy of Cooking's take on claufoutis. In fact, I prefer it to Ms. Child's version. But sometimes it's good to try new things.


Pear Clafoutis
Julia Child. Mastering the Art of French Cooking, vol. 1
 
1 lb small pears, Seckel pears
3/4 cup whole milk
1/4 cup whole milk yogurt
3 eggs
1/4 tsp lemon zest
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
1/3 cup almonds, chopped
2 tbsp butter
1/2 cup flour
1/3 cup sugar

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F.

Fill a large bowl with a few ice cubes, water, and a splash of lemon juice. Peel and halve pears, submerging the pears in the water bath. This will prevent discoloration. I tried coring the first pear; but the fruit was so small and slippery that I quickly became frustrated and abandoned it. Luckily the seeds are small and hardly noticeable in the final product.

In a large mixing bowl, whip eggs with sugar until frothy. Add in milk, yogurt, and vanilla. Beat until thoroughly incorporated. Gradually stir in flour and a pinch of salt. Set aside.

Melt butter in a small saute pan. I used an eight inch copper bottom pan. Arrange the halved pears cut side down in the melted butter. Pour batter over pears. Bake in the oven at 375 degrees for 10 minutes. Lower oven temperature to 350 degrees and bake an additional 30-35 minutes or until the top is nicely puffed and golden brown. Toothpick test it for doneness.

Note: It will sink as it cools.