Day 3: Biberli, or Swiss Gingerbread with Almond-Kirsch-Filling

Biberli is what happened to me when I let the kids decide what I should bake next. They chose a recipe I had never heard of before, with no picture, and with a name that didn't tell me anything at all: Biber is German for beaver, -li is a suffix that the Swiss love to add after all possible words, it seems.

But good that they did, because these gingerbread cookies are absolutely gorgeous, with a soft almond-kirsch-filling wrapped in crispy, spicy gingerbread crust.

And after a quick look at the best dictionary in the world I found out that the name for this type of cookies the most likely comes from a dialectal variant of Pimpernuss, or bladdernut (!), that was used as a spice in Biberli. Speaking of which: instead of the spices in this recipe, you can use a ready-made gingerbread spice mix.

This is what you need for the dough:

• 120g honey


• 50g sugar


• 30g butter


• 1 tsp cinnamon


• ½ tsp ground cloves


• 1 pinch of the following: dried orange peel, ginger, cardamom, coriander


• 1 pinch of salt


• 100g all-purpose flour


• 100g rye flour


• 1 tsp potash (or baking soda)


• 1 Tbsp kirsch or similar

..and for the filling:

• 1 smallish egg white


• 100g ground almond


• 40g sugar


• 1 Tbsp kirsch or similar

…and for the wash:

• a bit of milk


• 1 Tbsp honey


• 1 tsp cornstarch


• 1 Tbsp water

Combine honey, sugar, spices and butter in a saucepan. Heat until sugar has melted, then remove from heat. Dissolve potash in the kirsch. Place flour in a baking bowl. Add salt and the honey mixture and the potash-kirsch-mixture. Work the dough with your hands until it’s smooth. The dough looks and smells awful – don’t be scared, that’s normal :) The greenish colour comes from the rye and the weird smell from the potash (baking soda doesn’t smell that strong!). Let the dough rest 2-3 hours in the fridge.

For the filling, just combine all ingredients until you get a somewhat firm paste.

Roll the dough into a long rectangle about 8 cm wide. Work the filling into a long roll – it should be as long as the dough rectangle is. Place the filling roll in the middle of the dough. Pull both sides gently towards the middle, so that the filling stays fully covered. Press the seam together and turn the roll so that the seam faces down (see the picture below).

Now, use a sharp knife to cut small triangles out of the roll, like when baking cinnamon rolls the Finnish way. Brush the Biberli with milk and bake in a preheated oven (175 C) about 15 minutes, or until they start to gain some colour. In the meantime, prepare the liquid for the second wash: combine cornstarch, cold water and honey in a small saucepan. Bring to the boil and remove from heat. Once the cookies come out of the oven, brush them with the warm honey mixture. Let cool completely, then either enjoy – or store!

I’ve noticed that this kind of Lebkuchen (or gingerbread) tastes a bit bitter on the first day. Miraculously, the taste improves a lot in one or two days!



 

 

 

Day 2: Candied Orange Peel

I admit – I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life! But nothing as serious as having thrown away the best part of all the oranges I’ve ever eaten – the peel, that is. Even the not-so-tasty oranges have a luxuriously delicious peel! Of course, I’m talking about organic, non-treated oranges; the peel of waxed oranges is not edible (correct me if I'm wrong!).

So, instead of throwing away orange peels, dry them and use for baking. Or, even better, try this recipe of candied orange peel! I found it in Rena Salamans great book "The Greek Cook".

It’s amazing how during the 36 hours of making the candied orange peel the whole house is filled with irresistible orange smell. (But don’t worry, the active time of making them is actually quite short!) Only that smell makes the work worthwhile. In addition, candied orange peels are a real eye-catcher and they taste heavenly!

Here the time-planning is crucial: for me, it made sense to soak the peels late in the afternoon, let them stand the required 24 hours, do the cooking part early in the evening, and let stand until this morning.

For about 36 pieces you need:

• 4 organic oranges


• 400g sugar


• the juice of one small lemon or half a big one


• …and some strong yarn & a needle

Peel the oranges in a way that you get long stripes about two to three centimeters wide. Roll the stripes tight and secure them by binding 10-12 together in a “bracelet” (see the picture above) with needle and yarn.

Place the “bracelets” in a bowl filled with cold water. Let stand about 24 hours. Change the water 3-4 times. This is done to reduce the bitterness of the orange peels.

Drain the peels and place in a big saucepan. Cover with 2 liters of cold water. Bring to the boil and let simmer for 15 minutes. Drain the peels and repeat the procedure with fresh water. This time, let the peels simmer about 10 minutes or until they start to soften. Be careful not to overcook them.

Drain the peels again. In the meantime, prepare the syrup: place sugar and water in a heavy pan. Warm until the sugar has dissolved (add some more water if necessary), then let boil over a low heat until the mixture turns into thick syrup, or about 5 minutes. Be careful, it burns easily! Now, remove the yarn and place the peels into the syrup. Let simmer over a low heat about 5 minutes. Let cool and stand overnight.

Next morning, bring the mixture once more to the boil. Let simmer 5 more minutes, add the lemon juice, stir, remove from heat, and let cool completely. Place the peels and the syrup in well-washed jars.

If you sterilize the jars, the candied orange peels should keep easily for two years. I’m not going to try to find out if that’s true, though… Just happy if they make it until Christmas!

P.S. Don't throw the syrup away: it can be used in baking, or for flavouring of pancakes, yoghurt, and so on.



 

Day 1: Stollen

When baking for a day still quite far away in the future, it’s important to make sure that what you’re baking will still be good on the D-day.

So what could be a better candidate than a Christmas cake that was traditionally baked in Germany around the Christmas time - and eaten until Easter? This Christmas wonder is called Stollen - and that's what I decided to start with.

Most Stollen recipes involve a lot of yeast. I’m not a big fan of yeast, and I prefer baking with sourdough starter instead. So I tried to bake my Stollen with sourdough starter, with only a tiny bit of yeast as a guarantee it would ferment properly (maybe it’s the low temperature in my house, but my starter hasn’t worked perfectly lately).

It’s impossible to say whether the recipe I’ll share withyou is a good one. I will only be able to tell in about two week's time - that's how long it takes for this cake to develop its taste fully. But judging by the taste of the dough and the smell of the Stollen, I’m very optimistic!

For two smallish Stollen (a bit less than 450g each) you need:

• 120g sourdough starter, refreshed about 6-8 hours before with milk


• about 2g fresh yeast


• 100ml milk


• 2 Tbsp rum


• 1 egg


• 80g butter, melted


• grated zest of 1 organic lemon


• 50g sugar


• a pinch of salt


• a pinch of cardamom


• a pinch of cinnamon


• 140g sultanas


• 3 Tbsp candied lemon peel


• 40g ground almond


• 250g all-purpose flour

• plus about 70g melted butter and 4 tsp confectioner’s sugar on top

This is how you make it:

Combine lukewarm milk and yeast in a baking bowl. Add starter, egg, melted butter, sugar, salt (if using non-salted butter, consider using two pinches), lemon peel, and rum. Then add almond, sultanas, candied lemon peel, cinnamon, cardamom, and lastly, the flour. Knead until the dough is smooth, about 5 minutes, and add more flour if needed. Cover with a damp kitchen towel and let ferment in a draft-free place overnight.

In the morning, punch the dough on a baking surface and divide in two. Take one part and using your hands, form a rectangle. Fold the rectangle in the middle to form a Stollen, and place it on a baking tray covered with a parchment paper. Repeat with the second half of the dough. Make sure that no sultanas are on the surface - if there are, push them gently inside the Stollen; sultanas tend to burn very easily! Proof about one hour. Preheat the oven to 180 C and bake the cakes until they are golden brown on top and also well baked inside.

Once out of the oven, brush each Stollen with about 35g melted butter and sprinkle 2 tsp confectioner’s sugar on each. Let cool completely. Then wrap the cakes into a tin foil, place in a plastic bag and store in a cool place (not the fridge, though, it’s too cold and humid) for at least two weeks.

I’ll try to wait two weeks before tasting my first Stollen. I’ll keep you posted about the results!

P.S. Obviously, this recipe was no consolation for the kids - so we had some mousse au chocolat as a dessert instead! But hope they'll have better luck tomorrow.

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!