Christmas Cookie Calendar in Reverse

Last year, I got hooked to the German tradition of baking a variety of different Christmas cookies, or Plätzchen. I tried out 17 different German and non-German recipes, and it was a great experience. After that experience there just isn’t a way back to the Finnish only-one-type-of-gingerbread-cookies tradition.

So this year, there will be a variety of Plätzchen as well.

But in a slightly different way: this year, it will be a sort of reverse advent calendar!

Let me explain.

When I was a kid, I used to get an advent calendar every year. Some of my friends got a candy calendar, but mine only had pictures. I was so jealous!

This year, it was my kids turn to ask for an advent calendar with candy - or even worse, with Legos/Playmobils/some other plastic stuff in them. I will stick to the picture calendar, but at the same time, I’m going to offer a different kind of advent experience to the whole family and to myself. I’m going to bake cookies or cakes every day in December until Christmas, as if it were an advent calendar. I will bake only small or at least moderate amounts, and will store a certain amount of each, so that on Christmas Day we’ll have 24 different Christmas cookies, sweets, or cakes. A Christmas present for myself, how cool is that?

At the same time, during these 24 days there will be some leftovers to taste, (almost) every day! And hopefully a consolation for the kids ;)

I have a challenge for YOU: Join me in making your own advent calendar in reverse, with your own favourite recipes – or with the ones you always wanted to try but didn’t find the time yet. It doesn’t have to be every day, either: even if you make one contribution every three days, you’ll have 8 sorts by Christmas. Not bad, huh?

The picture in this post is one of my attempts to make a perfect Panettone, during last year's Christmas bake-off. My biggest challenge this year will be to finally manage to bake a perfect one! Stay tuned!

Chocolate Mousse Cake

You know the feeling when you get to eat something divine, ask for the recipe and are lucky enough to get it, try it out yourself – only to be bitterly disappointed with the result? Well, this is what happened to me with an absolutely exquisite chocolate mousse cake. A Portuguese friend of mine had served this tempting and delicious chocolate dessert a few months ago.

After the first failed experiment, I decided not to bake that cake anymore. I just couldn't take the disappointment anymore.

Things recently changed. The reason is that I have been drowning in egg whites that have been left over from pastéis (where you only use the yolks). And I got an idea: what if I used a lot of egg whites in the chocolate mousse cake, instead of whole eggs? Luckily enough, it worked! This cake is fluffy, tasty, and dangerously addictive. Bake at your own risk!

For one cake you need:

• 7-8 egg whites


• 2 eggs, whites and yolks separated


• 150g butter


• 250g dark chocolate


• 200g sugar


• 8g vanilla sugar


• 100g all-purpose flour

First, melt the chocolate and the butter in a saucepan or in the microwave. Add the two egg yolks and stir. Let cool a bit. In the meantime, beat the egg whites until soft peaks form, then add sugar and vanilla sugar gradually and continue beating. Now, add flour and the butter-chocolate-mixture to the egg whites and stir gently so that all ingredients get well combined. Pour into a buttered round cake form and bake in a preheated oven (175C) until the sides set but the center is still a bit liquid, or about 15-20 minutes.

Let the cake cool well and serve it plain or with some vanilla sauce or ice cream. And good coffee, of course!

P.S. I asked my daughter if the cake tasted as good as Orlanda's. "Well, almost", was her honest answer!

Pastéis de 4114 km de Belém

All my friends know how good I am at keeping secrets. Not very good, I’m afraid. In fact, I suck at it! So no way I’d be able to keep the recipe of almost perfect pastéis as a secret for two centuries… even two days would have been tough!

So here you have it, the not-so-secret recipe of mine. It's quite complex, though, so please ask if you've got any problems at any point!

It is mandatory that the puff pastry be homemade. But don’t worry, I suck at making puff pastry almost as badly as at keeping secrets. And yet I managed to do it – for this purpose, the dough just doesn’t have to be perfect (like, say, for croissants, which I’ve failed miserably every time I’ve tried to make them so far). Any attempt you make will be good enough for pastéis!

I used 1/3 whole-grain wheat and 2/3 all-purpose flour, but for a more traditional result, use only all-purpose. Not everyone is a fan of whole-grain like myself! And not everyone has as good flour as I have, and even I am tragically running out of it. (Time to visit Germany to get some more?!)

For about 30 pastéis you need:

For the dough:

• 400g flour


• 225ml warm water


• 200g butter


• (1/4 tsp salt but only if using unsalted butter)

For the filling:

• 12-14 egg yolks (reserve the whites to use for some other purpose)


• 200g sugar


• 4 Tbps cornstarch


• 1,2 liters heavy cream


• zest of one organic lemon, cut in long stripes


• one vanilla pod

First, make the filling. Combine all ingredients in a saucepan. Bring slowly to the boil, stirring constantly. This tends to burn really easily, so don’t even think of leaving the custard, even for two seconds! Let cool completely and make the dough in the meantime.

To make the dough, place the flour in a baking bowl. Make a hole in the middle, pour in the warm water, and work the dough with your hands until it’s smooth. Always start with a bit less water and add more if needed. It should be firm and smooth at the same time.

Now roll the dough out to a rectangle a bit smaller than an A4 paper. Smear half of the dough with softened butter. Fold the unbuttered half over the buttered one. Now, turn the dough 90 degrees and roll it into a long rectangle. Fold in three parts and let rest in the fridge for about 10 minutes. Repeat this rolling-out-and-folding-in-three still twice. Don’t worry if some butter comes out – just make sure to use enough flour so that the dough doesn’t glue to the baking surface!

After the last fold, let the dough rest in the fridge some 10 minutes and roll it out into a rectangle as thin as you can. Then, roll the dough in just as when you’re making cinnamon rolls.

Now comes the hard part: cut the rolled-in dough into pieces of about 1,5cm thick and place each in a buttered pastéis form or a muffin form. Take the form into your hands and with your thumbs, work the dough gently so that it in the end covers the sides of the form as well. (This might sound complicated, still hanging there?) It’s important to find the right amount of dough: it should be very thin but not break. Once you’ve done a couple of them, you’ll find the ideal amount of dough!

Then return to your filling. Remove lemon zests and vanilla pod (which you can use 2-3 times) from the custard. Fill the dough-covered forms with the custard. Bake in a pre-heated oven (250C) for about 10 minutes or until your pastéis get brown spots but don’t burn (which happens very easily, so don’t leave them unattended in the oven!). I’ve been told that the real pastéis get baked in 400C, but even 300C was way too much for my oven and my pastéis. Remember to place an extra tray on the bottom of your oven to catch any extra butter that might drip during the baking.

Serve your pastéis warm or cold, with or without some cinnamon on top!

P.S. Of course,  you can use ready-made puff pastry – but it just won’t be the same…

P.P.S. Needless to say, the distance between my new home and  Rua de Belém, 84-92 is 4114 km!

 

A Must in Lisbon: Pastéis de Belém

If a wanna-be vegan with a severe case of lactose intolerance arrives in Lisbon and rushes immediately to Pastéis de Belém to eat half a dozen of little custard pastries, either that person must have some issues – or those pastries are just divine. Not denying completely the first possibility, I’d say the second option is closer to the truth. Actually, pastéis de Belém have been nominated the 15th most delicious thing in the world!

Pastéis de Belém have been baked with the same secret recipe ever since they were invented in 1837. They are sold exclusively at the iconic coffee shop bearing the same name. The whole establishment in an incomparable experience. When entering the building, you’d say you’re in a Turkish bath: the walls are covered with azulejos, typical Portuguese oriental-looking decorative tile works. The omnipresent smell of pastéis reveals that this is a totally different thing.

When you first look around, you think the place is full. Then you see a passage leading to the next room, which is full as well and which leads to yet another one – until there’s one with tables available. (I’ve been wondering how many rooms they actually have? Is there an end?)

Then you sit down – and might be lucky and get served right away. But more often than not, the waiter attending you is older than your grandfather and might not notice or hear you at all in the beginning. Sooner or later, he’ll choose to ask what you’d like to have – and I strongly recommend you ask for at least two pastéis, if not meia duzia of them, and a coffee. And a whole duzia to take with you, of course!

All this taken into account, it’s actually amazing that pastéis hadn't sooner become the target of my culinary obsession. Maybe I just thought it would be impossible to make anything comparable. Even the Portuguese fail miserably with their pastéis de natas – a version of pastéis that shouldn’t even be mentioned in the same sentence with those of Belém.

But then I started thinking. And reading. And thinking some more. What makes those of Belém so superior to any other pastéis? It’s the filling, of course, so fluffy and tasty and not overly sweet. “Like flan gone to heaven,” said a friend of mine. But even more it’s the dough: it’s not any ordinary puff pastry they use. It’s got very fine layers, and it’s crispy and oh so tasty!

After having thought enough, I made an experience. (My first experience was actually before having read anything, and it was a terrible disaster.) And it worked. Oh, my, God. It worked. I’m not saying I re-invented the pastéis de Belém, but still. The result was clearly better than all the natas I’ve had so far. The best review came from my son: “Mum, these taste almost like those of Belém!”

And the recipe? Oh, no! I’m not going to reveal it! My intention is to keep it a family secret for at least two centuries. I can already imagine secret family meetings behind closed doors where the recipe will be passed to the next generation. So no, there’s not going to be a recipe after all!