The Secret to a Perfect Croissant

One of the more difficult tasks in the world of pastry is making croissants.  Those flaky, melt in your mouth layers are delicious on their own, and even better surrounding chocolate like in pain au chocolat--my favorite!  Croissants were introduced to the French by the Austrian princess Marie Antoinette in 1770 and I’d say the French have done a pretty good job perfecting them over the past 240 years. 

Now I’m sure all of you are on the edge of your seats right now dying to know the secret to croissants.  Well here it is…BUTTER.  Croissants are a combination of yeast dough and puff pastry.  Yeast dough is made and then butter is put in between the dough and rolled out, then folded and rolled out again.  The process repeats until there are multiple layers of paper-thin butter and yeast dough that when put in a hot oven puff up into the familiar croissant.  However, at Le Cordon Bleu we don’t use just any butter, here we use beurre sec, or dry butter.  While regular butter is 80-82% fat, dry butter consists of 82-84% fat which results in a richer tasting product.  You can of course also use regular butter to make croissants, but if you’re going through the trouble to make your own croissants in the first place, why the heck would you want to?  This is France.  Go big, or go home.

During the croissant demonstration class a student raised their hand to ask the chef where they could purchase dry butter.  “You can’t,” replied chef.  No, he doesn’t mean that you have to travel across Paris until you find a small unmarked store on a street that looks like an alley and once the store opens up after a two hour lunch break then you can buy dry butter.  Literally, c’est impossible.  You need a professional license stating that you are a baker or pastry chef to buy the stuff.  France--what a country!  As long as you look like you can pass for about eighteen they’ll sell you a couple bottles of wine.  However, they’re going to need to see some ID for that butter. 

Croissants are little too complicated for me to explain how to make in just one blog post.  Since it is the season for cookie baking I thought instead, I would share with you one of my favorite recipes for chocolate cookies.  They are gooey and chocolaty with a nice crust from the sugar coating.  Regardless of my growing repertoire of recipes I will never stop making these.  All the ingredients can be found at your regular grocery store—no ID required.   

“The Best” Chocolate Cookies

2 cups flour

¾ cup cocoa powder

½ teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon baking soda

2 sticks plus 4 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened

2 cups sugar

2 eggs

2 teaspoons vanilla

In a medium bowl sift the flour, cocoa powder, salt and baking soda.  In a separate bowl cream together butter, sugar, eggs, and vanilla.  Add the flour mixture to the butter mixture and mix until just combined.  Chill the dough for at least 1 hour. 

Preheat the oven to 350° F.  Scoop the dough out using a tablespoon and roll into 1 ½ inch balls.  Dip the top of the balls in sugar and place sugar side up on a baking sheet.  Bake approximately 8 minutes. 

Bon appétit and Joyeux Noel!

Bisou, bisou,

Maggie

“Let them eat cake!” 

-This quote is often wrongly attributed to Marie Antoinette.  The phrase comes from the book Confessions written by Jean-Jacque Rousseau when Marie was only a child.  Perhaps if she had actually uttered something similar to those lines she would have said, “Let them eat croissants!”

"Oui Chef!"

This past week I completed my exams for the basic pastry course at Le Cordon Bleu.  I can hardly believe that I have been in school for over a month.  During this time I learned a lot more about the chefs that help make LCB the wonderful school that it is.  Here is a little more about them: 

Chef Xavier Cotte.  Chef Cotte is my favorite.  He does most of the demonstrations for basic pastry and if he wasn’t a chef I imagine he would be a stand-up comedian or circus clown.  He is always twirling his knives and rolling pin around like batons and cracking jokes.  I consider him similar to a French, pastry-making version of Emeril Lagasse.  He recently left for a two week vacation and on the day of his last demonstration he stood in the doorway saying goodbye to the students, even shaking my hand and giving me a bisou, bisou!

Chef Jean-Francois Deguignet.  Chef Deguignet is the “mad scientist” amongst the chefs.  He grew up in a family of pastry chefs and that has contributed to his vast knowledge of patisserie.  During one demonstration he told us that when sugar is between 107 and 108 degrees Celsius you can blow bubbles.  He stood there in silence for a few moments looking at a boiling pot of sugar before dipping a slotted spoon in the liquid and blowing a cloud of sugar bubbles across the stove.  No thermometer needed—this man can tell the temperature of sugar just by looking at it!

Chef Jean-Jacques Tranchant.  Chef Tranchant is rather quiet and I don’t know much about him.  During practical classes he will come up to students, show them how to do something correctly, and then walk away all without saying a word.  One thing I do know about him is that he used to work with chocolatier Jean-Paul Hevin who makes chocolate covered cheese (don’t turn your nose up!  The cheese is very mild) that I had to seek out when I arrived here in Paris.  As the classes get harder, I’m interested to see what this chef has to offer. 

Chef Daniel.  I always forget Chef Daniel’s last name, but I don’t think he would mind being called by his first.  He is a very easy-going old man.  I hope he has grandchildren because he seems like the perfect grandfatherly figure.  He doesn’t know much English, but he does know the phrase, “no problem.”

Chef Nicolas Bernarde.  Amongst friends I like to refer to Chef Bernarde as “Hot Chef.”  Tall, dark, handsome, topped off with a French accent and numerous accolades including the title of Meilleur Ouvrier de France 2004.  What does this mean?  In 2004 Nicolas was named the best pastry chef in France and considering patisseries in France are as common as Starbucks in the U.S. this is a pretty big deal.  Bernarde runs things in the pastry department here at LCB and as he informed us, he doesn’t do demonstration classes.  Understandable I suppose, polishing trophies takes time.  When I first had Chef Bernarde for a practical class he patrolled the kitchen like a lieutenant in the army.  Our class soon learned that he did have a sense of humor though.  One day he took a small whisk from a student and announced to the class “Dis is bahbie gurl!” What? “For egg whites you use this!”  He held up a large whisk.  No one wants to be a Barbie girl in the kitchen. 

Me with visiting Chef Christian Faure and a signed copy of the Meilleur Ouvrier cookbook

Most of the chefs at school speak some English, but words sometimes get lost in translation--my name for example.  During the first week of class the chefs continuously pronounced my name “Magie,” just like my name is usually pronounced, but with a soft “g.”  I didn’t think much of this until I started seeing the word “magie” on posters around Paris.  So like anyone from the 21^st century, I turned to Google translate and learned that “magie” means “magic” in French.  I should also take this time to tell you about my chef clogs.  They’re leopard print and amongst a sea of solid black and solid white clogs they stand out.  People are constantly taking note of my shoes, even the chefs.  Hot Chef came up to me one day and said, “Grrrrrr Tigger!”  Tiger...and this is technically a leopard print, but I’m not about to correct Hot Chef.  So, between the name Magic and my leopard print shoes I came to the conclusion that the chefs must of course think I am the daughter of a stripper. 

Eventually all the chefs asked me how to pronounce my name and now they say it correctly.  However, my friends still like to call me Magie.  The chefs must still think there is a little magie in my pastry skills because I am officially a graduate of Basic Pastry and will be moving onto Intermediate Pastry in the New Year!  Woohoo!

Bisou, bisou,

Magie

“A great chef is an artist that I truly respect.”

-Robert Stack

"Les etudiants" of Le Cordon Bleu

When I first wrote you I had just finished my first day in the kitchen at Le Cordon Bleu.  The recipe we were required to make was “Diamonates” which is a shortbread.  Although they were good they were just cookies.  As a kid I enjoyed watching the Martha Stewart Show on Sunday mornings instead of cartoons.  So as you can imagine, I was ready for more of a challenge.  I am proud to report that to date I have made: shortbread cookies, apple tart, madelines, fruit cake,  Saint-Honore cake, apple turnovers, palmiers (a puff pastry), éclairs, chouquettes,  dacquoise cake, gateau basque (butter cake filled with cream and cherries), caramelized pear and crisp almond tart, raisin biscuits, meringue cookies, orange tart with a caramelized crust, and chocolate tart.   And I ate all of it!  Ok not all of it, I did grow up with three brothers; I know how to share.  On my way to school I usually see about 5 or 6 people begging on the street.  So most days, I walk home from school carrying my large LCB bag and distributing my confections to the homeless like a better-looking Santa Claus.

chouxquettes

Now for those of you concerned about my figure, you need not fear.  I get my share of exercise by walking, everywhere.  I do take the metro, but that will only get you so far.  Plus, walking through the metro station there are stairs, after stairs, and long corridors.  I also live on the third floor of the apartment building and for fear of getting stuck in a 10 foot square box, I usually forego the elevator and take the stairs.  Now I don’t mean this to sound like I’m complaining at all. I welcome the exercise and Paris is a beautiful city to walk in—a lot of beautiful architecture and interesting people to see!

Not only are the French people on the streets interesting, so are the people in my class.  Never in my life have I been in the same room with a more diverse group.  During demonstrations I notice people writing not just in English and French, but in Hebrew, Italian, Chinese, Japanese, and so on.  In my pastry class only about ¼ are men (there are a lot more men in the cuisine course) and students range in age from 18 to late fifties.  I have met Jen, a 30 year old American who was a nanny before coming to LCB.  Lydia, an American who is 27, and has worked in kitchens in Australia for the past 5 years.  Zane, who always turns out perfect pastries and owns a chocolate factory in Latvia that employs 100 people.  Ester, who has been a waitress since serving in the Israeli army.  Josefine, an 18 year old Swede who lives in England and will complete the basic pastry course before leaving to study law at Cambridge.  Jose, an Italian who has been working as an executive chef in his home country for the past few years. Yiling, from Singapore who worked in banking before quitting to attend LCB and do something she enjoys.  I could go on, but for now I’ll leave you with just the Cliffs Notes.  There are so many fascinating people at Cordon Bleu and I am excited to get to know everyone better. 

Now let the tune to “It’s a Small World” start playing in the back of your mind because in my class there is a woman who graduated from Miami University and a woman who graduated from Indiana University.  The former is Kristen, a nurse, in her late fifties, from Michigan.  She is here as a gift from her husband to complete the Basic Certificate in Pastry (although I’m sure this is as much a gift for him as it is for her). 

The latter is Laura, a self-described klutz from Ft. Wayne, Indiana.  She earned her master’s degree from IU sometime in the eighties and currently owns a bakery in Ft. Wayne.  If you knew Laura back in the states and you learned that she was moving to Paris to go to culinary school you may think to yourself, “This is why the French hate us.”  The first thing I noticed about Laura is that her hair shines, and not in the “What kind of shampoo do you use?” way.  Her hair literally has strands of tinsel weaved into it.  I asked her about it and it’s called Hair Flair; Google it for pictures.   Not a day in demonstration class goes by that we don’t hear Laura’s boisterous American voice asking questions.  For example the other day we were learning about chocolate which comes from the cacao tree when Laura interrupted to ask, “Is that also where cocaine comes from?”  I feel bad for Laura because every day I see the chefs and my peers growing more frustrated with her.  She really is a sweet woman and  I have a slight admiration for her eccentricity.  I hope she does well, but as we were told on the first day of class, not everyone will graduate.  I will try to avoid Laura in the kitchen though, she cut herself twice on the first day of class and bled all over.  Yes, while making cookies.  As for my fellow IU alumni, don’t you worry—I’m doing my best to redeem us in the eyes of the French.

Bisou,bisou

Maggie

P.S.  For the record, the French do not hate Americans.  However, if you walk around talking loudly and expecting everyone to understand English you will get some dirty looks.      

“Food is our common ground, a universal experience.”

-James Beard