You know when you get a weird urge some times; something in your head that you can’t shake, and it’s not because you ate some dodgy takeaway? It’s been in my mind all week, to make green tea brioche. I even knew what I wanted to do with it, once it was baked. Cut them into stars, skewer them and serve them alongside a hot beverage. Tea is my usual default option, but this time I thought I would attempt to overcome my prejudice against hot chocolate, to try Michel Bras’ recipe. There was also Michael Recchiuti’s recipe for white hot chocolate to consider, but I think that would be like stepping too far into the deep end without arm-floaties, for me.

So, dark hot chocolate it is. The recipe below serves two kids, or 1 adult who might claim to not like hot chocolate, until they taste this and beg for more, so make sure you prepare a little extra for such eventualities.

Other great things you can do this brioche (apart from eating it as is), is make caramelised green tea brioche and blackberry custard sandwiches (as pictured), a brioche and red bean bread ‘n’ butter pudding, or even green tea brioche ice-cream. Or, you could just eat it as it is. Really!

Hot Chocolate :
(Un chocolat chaud pour petit e pour grand; from The Notebooks of Michel Bras, by Michel Bras)

150g to 200g whole milk
60g butter
50g bittersweet chocolate
5g pralin (optional)
small pinch of salt
10g sugar

Combine all the ingredients and boil. Cook over low heat for 5 minutes. Mix [with an electric blender]. Serve piping hot. Drink and have another.

If you are a “grown-up”, you can strengthen the flavour by adding a teaspoon of cocoa powder.

True story. A long time ago, I bought a blowtorch not so I could caramelise petit creme brulees, but so I could take to whole cakes with it.

When I wield the torch, I am Martha Rambo Stewart, applying a burnish to my cake with tightlipped concentration. In 2008 : A Baking Odyssey, I am the ape in a gingham apron, arms raised at the spectre of the monolithic blowtorch.

Cake is good, my friends. And fire? Fire is a beautiful thing.

It all started with the urge to make lemon curd, and eventually morphed into a lemon meringue cake, slathered with said lemon curd, lightened with some whipped cream. In case you’re wondering, yes, that is an excessively large cake. I accidentally made it one tier too tall than what I had intended. Once it was cut up, I got the boy to do the rounds of our apartment block, pressing plates of cake into neighbours’ hands. Luckily there were some takers, or we would still be eating the same cake, one week later.

My favourite lemon curd recipe comes courtesy of a pastry chef I once worked for. Amongst many other things I learnt from him, he taught me the best and foolproof (for me) way of making this luscious lemon curd. For something a little different, you can even substitute the lemon juice with yuzu, that rather special and very aromatic Japanese citrus fruit. Here in Sydney, bottled yuzu juice can be obtained at considerable expense, from Simon Johnson. Once you’ve tried it though, believe me, you’ll understand what all the fuss is about (and will subsequently manage to forget how much you paid for it).

Lemon curd :

finely grated zest of 3 lemons
160g lemon juice
4 eggs (should yield about 200g, once cracked)
240g sugar
300g cold unsalted butter, cubed

Mix the first four ingredients together well and place in a saucepan. Over low heat, cook, stirring constantly, until the mixture thickens. Take the pan off the heat and gradually whisk in the cubes of butter, bit by bit. When all the butter has been incorporated, strain the mixture, chill over ice and then refrigerate, covered.

We made some cookies at work the other day that were so insanely delicious, I had to repeat the recipe at home too, for us to have with tea. They come from Michel Bras’ fabulous dessert book, from which I also rediscovered my love for Le Pain aux Epices.

I love recipes that have the ability to surprise. When I saw the word tuiles (which means tiles, in French), I thought, here’s yet another recipe for those ubiquitous wafers you see so often as garnishes on desserts. Not that they aren’t tasty, but I didn’t think I would gain anything from trying this recipe out. How wrong I was! These are lovely when made into thin, delicate shapes, but I also like them thicker like roofing tiles, spicy, and with a bit of a laissez-faire look to them.

They remind me of the plate-sized almond tuiles we saw being sold in various Parisian bakeries when B and I were there on holiday. Those were beautiful curved golden discs, flecked with sliced almonds, and stacked one on top of the other. I would have bought one for sure, if I hadn’t been so distracted by the cakes, croissants and baguettes that we consumed so much of.

Michel Bras recommends having some of these cookies on hand, “.. to console a child with a boo-boo, a stressed adult, [or] to offer as an expected treat to guests.” It is also good to note that the cocoa version is gluten/flour free. These sugary treats certainly appealled unexpectedly to this sometimes-stressed adult with the occasional boo-boo!

If that alone is not enough to convince you, I have also been indulging in some lily-gilding, by turning them into waffle-esque ice-cream cones! These were filled with hazelnut ice-cream, chocolate sauce spiked with coffee liqueur and chopped peanuts. My version of the chocolate Cornetto. 🙂

Tuile Cookies :
(from The Notebooks of Michel Bras by Michel Bras)

Cocoa Tuiles
200g sugar
30g cocoa powder
100g melted butter
75g egg whites

Combine the sugar, cocoa powder, and melted butter. Blend thoroughly. Add the egg whites. Allow to rest for 1 hour. Stir gently before using.

Line a baking sheet with buttered parchment. Make 8cm rounds with a pastry brush or with your index and middle fingers. Bake in a preheated 180’C oven until golden. If you overbake them, they will be too brittle to shape; if underbaked, they’ll be too soft. If you do not shape them immediately, you can reheat them in the oven later. When you remove them from the oven, shape them around a bottle or a rolling pin. You can also roll them into a cigarette shape by wrapping them around the handle of a spatula or wooden spoon.

Store in a tightly sealed container with a silica-gel packet.

Honey and Anise Tuiles
75g honey
75g icing sugar
60g melted butter
100g egg whites
70g sifted flour
anise seed

Combine the honey, icing sugar, melted butter, and egg whites. Blend thoroughly and add the flour. Allow to rest for 1 hour. Stir gently before using. When you form the tuiles, dust them with a few anise seeds. (Baking method as above)