By Barbra Austin of Serve It Forth

Though irrefutably Bordelais, the little cakes known as cannelés have conflicting origin stories. One attributes their development to a group of nuns. A more sentimental spin credits resourceful Bordeaux residents, who scooped up flour spilled from sacks during unloading at the port and used it to make the cakes for impoverished children.

Cannelés have a reputation for being difficult to make, and I'm not going to completely debunk that notion here. The batter is simple enough. What’s challenging is achieving the proper texture—that caramelized crust encasing a creamy vanilla- and rum-scented interior—that makes a cannelé a cannelé and not just any other cake.

Traditionally, copper molds are coated with “white oil,” a mixture of beeswax and vegetable oil that helps develop the crust while ensuring easy unmolding. If you are deterred by the use of hot wax in a recipe (I know I am), fear not: I found that a generous buttering did the trick, and any cakes that didn’t immediately release were easily coaxed out with a toothpick.

Less traditionally, you can use flexible silicon molds, which guarantee easy release. Like any nonstick surface, silicon doesn’t seem to encourage the kind of caramelizing that is characteristic of the best cannelés, but if you are willing to sacrifice a small amount of crustiness for greater ease, then the flexi-molds are for you.

I prefer the copper molds myself. Yes, they are more expensive (about 7 euros apiece at E. Dehillerin), but they are beautiful and will last forever.

Before you begin, there are a few things you should know:

The batter MUST rest at least a full 24 hours before baking, and I actually had my best results with batter that was two full days old. If you bake prematurely, you will get something resembling a popover.

If the exposed tops begin to darken before the baking time is up (and they will), cover the cakes with a sheet of foil to prevent burning.

If you are concerned that your oven’s thermostat is inaccurate, invest in an oven thermometer before attempting these.

Finally, don’t be discouraged if your first batch doesn’t come out. Cannelés can throw even experienced bakers for a loop.

Cannelés

Makes 12.

2 cups (500 ml) whole milk
2 tablespoons (30 g) butter
1 vanilla bean
¾ cup (100 g) all-purpose flour
¾ cup plus 2 tablespoons (180 g) sugar
pinch of salt
1 egg
1 egg yolk
3 tablespoons (45 ml) dark rum
A few tablespoons melted butter for the molds (not necessary if you’re using silicon molds)

1. Put the milk and butter into a small saucepan. Split the vanilla bean and scrape the seeds into the milk, and add the pod too. Gently heat the milk over medium heat until the butter has melted and the milk is steaming hot but not boiling. Remove from the heat and cool slightly.

2. In a mixing bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar and salt. Add the egg and yolk and whisk until thoroughly combined. Slowly add the milk to the egg and flour mixture, whisking constantly. Stir in the rum. Let the batter cool to room temperature, then cover it and refrigerate for at least 24 hours (and up to three days) before baking. (Leave the vanilla bean pod in the batter but fish it out before baking, obviously).

3. If you are using metal molds, grease them thoroughly with melted butter, making absolutely certain that every surface is thoroughly coated (I use a finger); then turn them upside down so that any excess butter doesn’t pool at the bottom of the molds. Refrigerate the molds until you’re ready to bake.

4. Put an oven rack in the lower third of the oven and preheat to 400°F (200°C). When the oven is ready, pour the batter into the molds, to about ½" (1¼ cm) from the top. Put the molds on a baking sheet and place in the oven. After 15 minutes, reduce the heat to 375°F (190°C) and continue baking for another 75–90 minutes, depending on how dark you want the cannelés to be. If the tops start to get too dark before the baking time is up, cover the cakes with a piece of foil.

5. If you’ve used copper molds, grab each mold with a towel and whack it against the counter a few times to loosen the cake. If the cakes don't slide out when inverted, use a toothpick to loosen them from the molds. If you’ve used silicon, wait about five minutes before unmolding—they should pop right out.

Serving Suggestions

Let the cannelés cool completely before eating. They will hold for a few days in an airtight container at room temperature, though the crust will lose some crispness. Five minutes in a 400° oven will refresh them. Cannelés can be eaten for breakfast, a snack or dessert, with coffee, tea or a glass of wine.

By Barbra Austin of Serve It Forth

Though loyal to Julia Child’s Boeuf Bourguignon, I felt like a change this winter. There is a recipe for beef stew in Alice Waters’s The Art of Simple Food, and I was surprised to see the addition of orange peel and cloves to the pot. She includes tomatoes, too, but that wasn’t what I had in mind. I turned to the beef and veal volume of The Good Cook series, published by Time-Life in the 1970s. (These books are fantastic. Look for them at used bookstores or online.) There I found a recipe for Daube de Boeuf that also included orange and spices. It’s attributed to one C. Chanot-Bullier, who wrote a book called Vieilles Recettes de Cuisine Provençale. Suddenly the Alice Waters recipe made sense—it is no secret that her cooking is inspired by Provence.

All beef stews are basically the same: the meat is browned, usually in bacon fat; vegetables and seasonings are added to the pot; and the whole thing is covered with wine and/or stock and kept at a bare simmer for a few or several hours, until the meat is very tender. At this point it can be served directly from the pot, but here I turn back to Julia Child, who removes the meat, strains the vegetables from the cooking liquid and returns the beef to the pot with the smooth sauce. It sounds complicated, but it can all be done in advance, and the result is more elegant.

The wine you choose to cook with should be drinkable but not expensive. Save your money for the stuff that will go in your glass. For a nice bottle to drink, a hearty Rhône red would be perfect. See what Girls' Guide to Paris contributor Diana Rice has to say about these wines.

Then start cooking!

Daube de Boeuf
Adapted from The Good Cook: Beef and Veal (Time-Life) and The Art of Simple Food, by Alice Waters (Potter).

Serves 4 to 6.

1 tablespoon (15 ml) cooking oil
4 oz (115 g) bacon, cut into ½" (1½ cm) pieces
2½–3 lbs (1 kg) beef chuck, cut into 1½" (4 cm) chunks, rinsed and dried thoroughly with paper towels
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 medium onions, sliced
1 carrot, cut into 1" (2½ cm) pieces
3 cloves garlic, peeled and crushed
1 tablespoon (9 g) flour
2 sprigs fresh thyme
2 sprigs fresh parsley
1 bay leaf
3 peppercorns
3 whole cloves
1 cinnamon stick (or ¼ teaspoon ground cinnamon)
A 2" (5 cm) strip of fresh orange zest (use a vegetable peeler to achieve this)
1 bottle (3¼ cups/750 ml) dry red wine (or half wine and half meat stock)

1. Season the beef generously with salt and pepper and set aside. In a heavy 9" oven-proof casserole (a Le Creuset Dutch oven is perfect here) heat the oil over medium heat and sauté the bacon in it until it is lightly browned and has released some of its fat. Remove the bacon from the pan with a slotted spoon and set aside.

2. Increase the heat to medium high. When the oil is nearly smoking, brown the beef on all sides, a few pieces at a time. (If you crowd the pan, the meat will steam and not brown properly, so do it in batches.)

3. When all of the beef is browned, turn the heat down to medium and remove the beef and all but 1 tablespoon of fat from the pan. Put the onion, carrot and garlic in the pan, season with salt and pepper, and cook for several minutes until lightly browned and starting to soften.

4. Return the beef and bacon to the pan with the vegetables. Sprinkle the flour into the pan and stir everything together so that the meat and vegetables are evenly coated with flour.

5. Add the herbs, spices and orange zest to the pan, then pour in enough wine/stock to just cover the contents. Bring the stew to a simmer on the stove top, cover it and transfer it to the oven. After 15 minutes or so, check to make sure the stew is barely simmering—if it isn’t simmering at all, turn up the heat a little, and if it’s rapidly bubbling, turn it down. Continue cooking for at least 2½ or 3 hours, until the meat is very tender.

6. When the meat is ready, remove the pot from the oven. Carefully remove the beef, then pour the cooking liquid through a strainer set over a bowl big enough to hold all of the sauce.

7. Put the strained sauce back in the pan. Taste it for seasoning and add salt and pepper if necessary. The sauce should be thick enough to lightly coat a spoon. If it isn’t, bring it to a boil and reduce it slightly.

8. Return the beef to the sauce and reheat thoroughly before serving.

Serving Suggestions and Variations

This recipe can be made a day in advance. A dish like this cries out for mashed potatoes, though I’ve also seen daubes served with buttered noodles. Garnish it with fresh parsley if you like. Try adding black olives or prunes to the sauce. You can make this stew with all wine, or replace some of it with meat or veal stock—the finished dish will be richer and the sauce a bit thicker.

By Barbra Austin of Serve It Forth  

Standing in line at the Raspail market on a recent Sunday, I overheard a woman telling her young granddaughter about the meal they were going to have later.

“Et, j’ai fait un gâteau au chocolat,” she said, to the great joy of the girl.

I imagined the cake would be something like this one: a deeply chocolaty single layer, with a richness and elegance that belie the fact that it is actually fairly easy to make. It’s a sort of Little Black Dress of cakes, really.

This recipe is adapted from David Lebovitz’s last book, The Sweet Life in Paris. I made it to bribe my French teacher in New York, and I go back to it again and again when I need something that will impress.

The not-so-secret ingredient is crème fraîche, the thick, fermented cream that is one of the glories of the (let’s face it) glorious array of dairy products found in France. Cheese shops and market stands sell crème fraîche made from unpasteurized cream, and it is utterly delicious. The pasteurized version found at the supermarket is not nearly as flavorful, but it will do just fine here.

Truthfully, this is barely a cake; the final texture is mousselike, thanks to many eggs, no flour and the crème fraîche. The chocolate flavor is pure and unadulterated. It will taste like the chocolate, so choose one that you really like in its raw state. I use Valhrona 61 percent.

It’s very delicate, so don't be sad if you cannot achieve perfect slices. Honestly, I don’t think anyone will mind once they taste it.

Chocolate Cake with Crème Fraîche
Adapted from The Sweet Life in Paris, by David Lebovitz (Broadway).

Serves 12–16.

12 oz (340 g) high-quality bittersweet chocolate, chopped
2/3 cup (160 ml) strong coffee or water
1/4 cup (60 g) crème fraîche
1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract
5 large eggs at room temperature
1/2 cup (100 g) sugar
pinch of salt

1. Preheat the oven to 325°. Lightly butter a 9- or 10-inch springform pan and wrap the outside of it with foil to make it watertight. Place the pan into a roasting pan wide enough to hold the cake pan and deep enough to hold at least an inch of water.

2. Put the chocolate and coffee or water in a large heatproof bowl, and place the bowl over a pot of barely simmering water, making sure that the bottom of the bowl does not touch the water. Stir until the chocolate has melted and the mixture is smooth, then remove the bowl from the heat and set aside to cool. Stir in the crème fraîche and vanilla.

3. Put the eggs in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the whisk attachment. Add the sugar and salt and whip on high speed until the mixture is thick and pale and holds its shape when dropped from the whisk, about 5 minutes. (You can use a handheld mixer, but it will take significantly longer for the eggs to reach optimal volume.)

4. With a large rubber spatula, fold about half of the egg mixture into the chocolate, then gently fold in the rest.

5. Scrape the batter into the prepared pan. Set the cake pan in the roasting pan and transfer to the oven. Pour enough warm water into the roasting pan to come halfway up the side of the cake pan. Bake for 45 minutes to 1 hour, until the cake is firm on the surface but still feels soft when gently tapped.

6. Carefully remove the cake pan from the water bath, take off the foil and cool the cake, still in its pan, on a rack. When it has cooled to room temperature, run a knife along the edges of the cake to separate it from the pan, and remove the outside of the springform.

To serve the cake, use a thin knife dipped in hot water to make thin slices (it's very rich!), and wipe the blade clean between every cut. You can also use dental floss to cut it. Refrigerating the cake will make it easier to slice, but it does change the texture a bit, though not at all in a bad way! The cake will keep, well covered, at room temperature for a day, in the fridge for up to 5 days or well-wrapped and frozen for one month. Serve plain, or with ice cream, caramel sauce or whipped cream.