'around my french table'. A beautiful, charming book, full of equally charming and very french recipies.
Naturally, there's a whole bucket of recipies that I will try from this book, but one of them had my lovely wife instantly squealing with glee on her couch in the kitchen - proper éclairs. Vanilla éclairs, of all things. Right there, in her hands, with a husband easily swayed to make some for her.
Maybe I should add some more background information, otherwise my darling wife gets to look even weirder than usual in my posts.
She loves éclairs, those longish choux-pastry things, sugar-frosted and filled with pudding that you can get in any French pâtisserie deserving the name. Especially, she loves them with plain frosting and vanilla filling.
Unfortunately, that's apparently the least popular flavour in France, for they stock them only in the rarest cases. Which, naturally, leads to each of our vacations in France including at least one scavenger hunt through all bakeries in town hunting for vanilla éclairs.
In one case, we just gave up and asked our favourite pâtisserie in Cenac-et-St.-Julien how many we would have to order for them to consider making some vanilla ones in addition to their wide array of coffee-, chocolate- or caramel flavoured ones.
Suffice to say that her pleading looks and my 'rustic' French seemed to sway them rather easily, though we still ended up with a slighty embarassing amount of vanilla éclairs the next day. Though it was only embarassing in so far as we finished all of them that afternoon, but that's another matter entirely.
So basically, being able to make vanilla éclairs on my own would be a really grand thing in our household. 'Ganz großes Kino', as a friend of ours would say, 'big movie magic'.
And what can I say? Dorie might just have saved my marriage. Not that it was in any need of saving right now. But if ever there comes the day that I am in doubt, I'll now be able to whip up a batch of vanilla éclairs, and it'll work wonders. I just know.
This recipe is treasure. The éclairs are just as they are supposed to be, firm and rich and sweet and creamy and just right. Just look at them, lying in their little box, ready to be given away. For that recipe alone, Dorie Greenspan's book has earned a special place on my bookshelf, and in my heart.
From Dorie Greenspan's 'around my french table', measures converted by me, so it's all my fault.
(makes about twenty)
for the filling
6 egg yolks
100g sugar40g cornstarch
1,5 teaspoon vanilla extract
for the choux pastry
1/2 teaspoon of salt
for the icing (my style)
250g powdered sugar
30g warm water
on the day before serving
For the filling, combine the yolks, starch, sugar and vanilla in a bowl and whisk until smooth.
Bring the milk to a gentle boil and take off the heat. Gently pour a little of the hot milk onto the egg mixture, whisking until well combined. Then add the remaining milk in increasing steps, then return the mix to the pot.
Heat again while whisking constantly, until it starts to thicken and bubble. Take off the heat and leave to cool for a minute or so.
Add the butter and whisk until smooth.
Leave to cool a little longer, then seal tight and keep in the fridge over night.
On the day of serving
For the choux pastry, bring the milk, butter, sugar and salt to boil in a large casserole.
Once the milk boils, add the flour in a single scoop and start mixing vigorously, all the while keeping the pot on the stove. Once the dough is smooth and a thin, white layer forms on the bottom of the pot, remove from heat.
Immediately, add one of the eggs and mix until smooth again. Add the remaining eggs idividually, mixing until smooth after each addition. Leave to rest for a few minutes.
Preheat the oven to 210°C.
Fill the dough into a piping bag with a big, plain nozzle. Pipe straigt dough fingers onto a baking sheet lined with baking paper.
With a little bit of luck, I manage to get ten pieces onto a sheet, but rather keep them well apart as they will rise immensely.
Bake for 15 minutes at 210°C, then lower temperature to 170°C and vent the oven for a few seconds to let out the steam. Keep baking for another 10 to 15 minutes, then open the door a little and continue to bake for 5 minutes more.
Take the éclairs out of the oven and leave to cool on a rack.
Continue with the remaining dough, until you have an assembly looking more or less like the one to the right.
As soon as the éclairs have cooled, transfer the filling from the fridge into another piping bag, this one as well with a big, plain nozzle.
Actually, I use sturdy freezer bags with a corner cut off for this, but that's just me making do.
Cut the éclairs open along one side.
Make sure the cut is rather too high on the side, it's still better to have a less-than-perfect-looking sweet than one that spills its filling onto your lap at the first bite.
Pipe the filling into the éclairs.
I usually have a little vanilla cream left over after a batch of these, but I am very sure that I do not have to tell you what you can do with this.
For the icing, combine all ingredients and heat for a few seconds in the microwave until just warm. Mix until smooth and silky, then immediately pipe or spoon onto the éclairs.
Once again, I use a freezer bag for mixing and piping the icing, saves me a lot of stuff to clean.
Chill until serving, best after a few hours in the fridge.
Keeps well in the fridge for a few days, though must be covered tightly as it will catch smells from surrounding food.
Goes perfectly with the hot caffeinated beverage of your choice, but needs very little in terms of company.
I could imagine them handsomely with some finely chopped strawberries in the filling and a cold glass of champagne, though...