Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Mango breakfast crisp



I made this mango breakfast crisp for two reasons. First reason: for the comfort that comes with making and eating any kind of fruit crisp. Second reason: because I am on the verge of moving yet again and find myself with two bags of frozen chopped mango. While my move to Ottawa was exciting because I was about to embark on a whole new career, beginning with pastry school, my return to Montreal is bittersweet. I now have a "pâtisserie de base" certificate and I could have continued on to the next level, but I have chosen not to. As my classmates return to school, I am packing up my boxes and moving back home.



The move was my decision and had to be for so many reasons, but still, I find that right now, it is a little harder to get out of bed in the mornings and face the days, the packing, the people I have to explain my story to, and the unknown road ahead. So, I'm bribing myself with breakfast crisp all while emptying the freezer and pantry, and I'm filling my belly. It's my way of dealing. Can you blame me?

I un-healthified this breakfast crisp ever so slightly (adapted from Whole Living magazine) by tossing a few tablespoons of brown butter into the topping. The brown butter makes the crisp that much nuttier. I baked this recipe in a deep-dish, 7-inch round ramekin that is almost 3-inches deep. The recipe filled the dish to the rim, and made my apartment smell amazing. For those thinking they wouldn't like mango crisp, it's actually quite lovely. The mango stays bright and fresh tasting. It's the perfect form of bribery and something to look forward to in the morning.


Mango breakfast crisp

    Makes one crisp (either 8x8-inch or a large, deep-dish 7-inch ramekin)
  • 1 1/2 cups oats
  • 3 tbsp whole wheat flour, divided
  • 1/3 cup sliced almonds
  • 1 tsp cinnamon
  • 1/2 tsp ground ginger
  • 1/4–1/2 tsp salt
  • 1 1/2 cups frozen chopped mango
  • 1 lemon, juiced
  • 2 tbsp light brown sugar
  • 2 tbsp honey
  • 2 tbsp maple syrup
  • 2–3 tbsp browned butter

  1. Preheat the oven to 350°F.
  2. In a medium bowl combine the oats, 2 tbsp whole wheat flour, sliced almonds, cinnamon, ginger and salt. Set this aside.
  3. In another medium bowl, combine the remaining whole wheat flour with the mango and lemon juice. Set this aside.
  4. In a small bowl, stir together the brown sugar, honey, maple syrup, and the browned butter. Add this to the bowl containing the oat mixture and stir to thoroughly combine everything.
  5. Place the mango in the bottom of individual ramekins, or one giant ramekin, or an 8x8-inch square glass pan. Top with the oat mixture.
  6. Bake for about 50 minutes or until the topping begins to turn a deep, crispy golden brown and the fruits are sizzling hot (you'll be able to hear the sizzle!).

Thursday, June 14, 2012

Time for a recap and a break...

Miroir cassis

There was practice, and practice, and more practice, but I'm finally done! And now, I'm taking a little break to recoup after Basic Pastry. I'm leaving you with some photos of a few of the desserts I made at school recently.

The miroir cassis (shown above) is filled with a black currant mousse made from gelatin, fruit purée, Italian meringue and whipped cream (all hand-whipped, of course!). I discovered with this dessert that, no matter how much I practice writing with melted chocolate on parchment, put a cake in front of me, and I panic. I had to redo the writing probably 20 times before I was satisfied...

Pavé du Roy

The pavé du Roy is composed of thin layers of chocolate almond sponge, soaked with a rum syrup and topped with layers of dark chocolate ganache. I, of course, had the misfortune of working at a station directly under the air vent which means my ganache set almost too quickly to work with. My chocolate curl decor was labelled as "feminine" by our instructor, and we are all wondering what exactly that means...

Succès

The succès cake is made up of three layers of crispy/chewy almond dacquoise and filled with chocolate French buttercream. Traditionally, the succès cake should be filled with hazelnut buttercream, but since I'm allergic to hazelnuts, I got to flavor the buttercream with cocoa instead.

Tarte soufflée

The tarte soufflée seems very "retro" to me for some reason. It's basically a sweet tart crust baked with almond cream, then topped with a dome of soufflée batter and baked again. The whole thing is finished with a good drizzling of coulis that is funneled through the center of the tart so that, when you cut into the tart, each slice has it's own serving of coulis.

Saint-Honoré

The Saint-Honoré cake is one of the most difficult cakes of the term, which I guess is why we do it last in the curriculum. You start with a base of pâte brisée that you top with a rim of pâte à choux and then a crown of baked choux that are filled with chiboust cream (a light mixture of pastry cream, gelatin, and Italian meringue) and dipped in caramel. The tart is then filled with more chiboust, and then topped with a pretty dome of spoun sugar.


My final exam dessert: charlotte aux poires

This last dessert is a pear charlotte, which is the cake I was assigned on exam day. The border is made of lady fingers that were actually piped as a fan. The difficulty in this technique (as opposed to piping individual lady finger cookies) is that you have to pipe the fan at the right curved angle in order to get the lady fingers to appear to be standing up straight. In practice, I always did this wrong and ended up with a slanty lady finger border. The baking of the lady fingers is also tricky because they need to be baked enough so that on a humid day, they won't end up overly moist from contact with the air, but if they are overbaked, the border will crack. Somehow, on exam day, I finally got it right! My lady finger border was straight and free of unsightly cracks and, of course, baked to "GBD"—golden brown delicious. The filling is a pear bavarian cream made from crème anglaise, gelatin, pear purée and whipped cream. The dessert is served with chantilly and raspberry coulis.