Showing posts with label gifts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gifts. Show all posts

Friday, January 9, 2015

Better Late than Never Panettone

Panettone, ready for the oven.
True, we are full into January now. But traditions are so pleasurably acquired through the years, and usually none are discarded along the way, and so it is possible, likely even, to have missed one or two rituals during the holiday season proper. No matter! Although a royal-icing decorated snowflake cut-out cookie may be December-specific, many classic recipes are simply winter, and festive- and panettone is one of these. Add to this that, in the richness of life, there will always be someone else you are grateful for- it is an endless affair.
Panettone hits all the right notes- lavish, festive, rich, fruit laden, and basically wraps itself. But- it is a bread. Therefore it is technically sensible, and never "too much" after a season of indulgence. It is also sturdy, shipable, and maybe even better stale than fresh. This particular panettone became a family tradition after my mother gave me a pre-season gift of a small, gimicky-looking Williams-Sonoma cookbook called "Gifts from the Kitchen." Well, I am not going to squirt some wine vinegar into a glass bottle and add a strip of orange zest and a sprig of rosemary and call it a gift. But the baked recipes are consistently excellent. The first time I made this a friend burned his fingers in his greed to dig it out of the extra large San Marzano tomato can it was baked in, then went on directly to burn his mouth with the steaming hot bread. It was hysterical and very gratifying.

This recipe has been gently scaled up, made metric, and has non-Sonoma temperature kitchen times. 

We'll need:

about 800 g/ 5, 51/2 C flour
100 g/ 1/2 C sugar
12 g. 1 1/2 T/ 1 1/2 envelopes dry yeast
about 8 ml/ scant 2 tsp. salt
180 g/ 3/4 C butter
140 g/5 oz/ about 1/3 C honey
360 ml/1 1/2 C milk
zest of 2 large oranges and one large lemon
3 eggs
5 ml/ 1 tsp. vanilla extract
Scant liter/ 4 C mixed dried fruits- cut into pieces if necessary. Here we used figs, sugared dried pineapple, and prunes.

This makes 2 large panettone forms, or three large tomato cans. 

This rich bread, which requires only minimal mixing and no real kneading, nonetheless needs time. This batch here took all day- I started around 10:30, and just made it to the courier (it was going to Athens) before the 8 o'clock pick up.All of the steps are fun, and hard to mess up. It just needs to sit a long time- much longer than the original recipe indicates.

Start by putting half of the flour and all of the rest of the dry ingredients (except the fruit) in the bowl of your mixer, or a large bowl if you will use a hand mixer or simply a wooden spoon (another advantage of this fine recipe- you really don't need a mixer at all):


Zest the citrus:


Measure out the butter and honey (so much easier to measure sticky honey with a scale):


Then heat the milk, butter, honey, and zests- this is the only part where you need to be careful- it should be heated to about 52 C/125 F- warm enough to dissolve and start activating the yeast, but not so hot as to kill it. No thermometer? Put your little finger in to the second joint, and count to 13 ("One one-thousand, two one-thousand...."). You should just be able to stand it.

When it's ready, the butter will have melted/
Stir it a little. It smells heavenly.
With the mixer on low, blend the warm liquid into the dry ingredients to make a thin batter. Beat a couple of minutes, add the eggs and vanilla, and beat again to combine well. then add as much of the rest of the flour as you need to make a stiff, sticky batter (really it's not so much a soft dough as it is a stiff batter). Put it into a large oiled bowl:

You can see the texture, the stickiness of the batter. Not a dough.
Now the batter can be covered and set aside to rise, and here we differ from the original instructions, which claim an hour and a quarter rise will see it doubled. In a winter house, even near the heater, the batter needs a few hours to rise. Imagine the air slogging through the weight of the eggs and butter and honey! It takes a while. In the meantime, we can cut up the fruit (scissors make this easy) and have it ready:


We punch the batter down- revealing the web of dough and air bubbles that have slowly developed. Now we blend in the fruit- there's a lot of fruit, and the dough is quite sticky- lightly oiled hands work best:


Now we divide it into the molds:


and then cover them with plastic wrap, which helps them create their own warm, moist environment to rise in. I also put them directly on the radiator this time, to hurry things along.

Let them rise to almost double- certainly about 2/3 more- and get the oven ready. Put the rack in the second lowest position, and turn the oven on to 170 c/350 f. In the meantime get the loaves ready too- cut a deep "X" in the tops with scissors, brush them with an egg wash, and dust them if you like with pearl sugar or crushed sugar cubes. When the oven is warm, transfer the loaves. They will gain some more height in baking:

Before...
and after. A little gain in height.
How to tell when they're done? As you see, they darken easily. Also, being so rich with egg and butter, the hollow tap sound will not be of help. Try testing like we test a cake- a wooden skewer (a toothpick is too short for our tall breads) inserted into the center should come out clean. Have a thermometer? The interior temperature will be 85 c/185 f.

These take a while to cool, but they're great hot, and great stale- toasted lightly, spread with a little butter for gloss and show. To wrap- classic is gathering them in a big sheet of cellophane and tying with a bow:



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Friday, December 19, 2014

The Boy Scouts' Guide to Holiday Entertaining.

Katouni Street,
Anoladadika ("the upper oil warehouse district"),
in beautiful Thessaloniki.
How the Boy Scouts managed to corner the motto "be prepared" is anyone's guess. I had a friend who was from the UK and she once used the expression "a dirty stop out." This apparently is a person, not an activity, and, although once you clear that up it seems pretty obvious, she illustrated it with the example of a woman who never went out for the evening without bringing change of fresh panties and a toothbrush. Well- although perhaps not exactly what the Boy Scouts had in mind- this is nothing if not preparedness.

Why stop there? It's a good motto for the kitchen too, especially during the holidays. It is natural to interpret this as having everything on hand you might need- extra butter (every time I open the freezer those 20 packs of butter fill me with calm), chocolate, flour. Cheeses, wines for drop in guests and for taking to parties. Food stuffs. But actually, the thing that throws everything else into upheaval when it is missing is not food, but all the infrastructure items- pans, dishes, and most of all packaging materials. How many times have you made a beautiful and laborious dessert and sent your guests off with a piece for breakfast in an unceremonious mangle of foil? Better the glorious memory to linger than the misshapen lump. Or you have treats in abundance on your counter- having tried every tempting thing from the New York Times and holiday issues of Saveur and Bon Appetit- but still end up in your party dress on your knees in front of the deep corner cupboard, ransacking it for an old cake box you think you might have folded up after wiping the frosting from the inside of the lid. 

Since I do some catering, I have fresh cake boxes in several sizes in my cupboard, and their impact on day-to-day domestic life has been dramatic. Seriously, you can almost put cat food in a cake box. The high expectations the box invites make whatever is inside feel like a present, a treat, something special. Cookies stay whole and fresh. Nothing looks suspicious to the squeamish (I am squeamish. I do not like to take a fingerful of crumbled cake from a wad of tinfoil. I always imagine the worst- grubby food handling. Cats. Enthusiastic children). Tidy boxes? People receive them with happiness and eat from them in confidence. 

And when you are in post cognac happy drowsy hostess mode, that stack of small boxes you put out on the counter before your dinner party guests arrived hours ago, makes the end of the night easy and graceful. Instead of a mess of foil and used grocery bags and light panic, you send your guests off with a sweet farewell, in a perfect little box in its perfect little bag

I would not go into the Christmas and New Year's weeks without 2 sizes of boxes, and handsome cellophane bags in a couple of sizes- these make everything shimmer and glitter- and plain clear plastic bags or paper bags with handles to put them in. Also, a couple types of ribbon. As I was preparing a special package this week, I went not once but actually three times to our Agro-Industrial neighborhood- a cobblestone maze of warehouses specializing in supplies for small scale agricultural production- wine jugs, oil cans and barrels, feta cheese tins, curing tubs, mammoth canning jars, twine, etc. 

This neighborhood also has wholesalers of conventional commercial packaging materials- coffee cups, bread bags, deli paper, and so on. 

Warehouse shelves are laden with unexpected
glimpses of nostalgia.
For me, packaging should be either beautiful and useful, or beautiful and not wasteful. This precious craft-store packing makes an impression, but I hate to throw it out when I get it, and I hate to keep it around, looking all pricey and precious and not very useful. Packaging from sources who have the same mindset- industrial wholesalers- is functional, and practical, and definitely not twee. 

In a new context, the ubiquitous takes on fresh interest.
So were my three outings in a time-crunched week well spent? Oh, my yes. First, there is the  beauty of useful things. Also. I have, for a price not really even worth mentioning, an abundance of purpose specific packing and wrapping stuffs- various bags both chic (cellophane) and industrial (coffee bags with graphics from the sixties), various paper food wrappings, glass jars, metal tins, white paper boxes, and pretty bits of string and ribbon and twine. Putting together the packages is a delight. 

Infrastructure firmly in place, I can focus on what I really enjoy this time of year- baking, and sharing everything that comes out of the oven. Happy holidays!

Scoops and strainers, shining like silver.




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