Pâte Feuilletée "Traditional Puff Pastry" (SUGAR SORCERY # 4)

Food history is as rich as it's going to get. I was always fascinated to where, how or why a dish was born. Getting to know a certain dish in an intimate level is as delicious as actually eating it. It gives the food soul, hence satisfies the consumer's soul as well.

Pâte Feuilletée, or most commonly known as Puff Pastry is thin layers of pastry dough and fat on top of each other, resulting in a light, crunchy, flaky, rich confection. It starts as the dough undergoes a process called lamination. The dough, or the détrempe envelopes a solid fat (usually butter) or beurrage, rolled and folded making layers and layers of dough and fat. 

Creation of this pastry is still debated up to this day. Some say a version of the puff pastry goes way back in the 13 century found in Spanish Arabic books. Back then, it was called muwarraga, meaning "leafy" in Arabic. Others would call it foliatil, translating "leafy" in medieval Spanish. Fast forward a couple hundred of years to 1645, where Claudius Gele, a baker's apprentice and artist, whipped up a layered dough and butter concoction for his sick father who was prescribed a diet consisting of flour, water and butter. Despite Gele's mentor's warnings that the fat will weep out of the pastry, he still went on and baked it. To both their pleasant surprise, the heavens sang and a golden cloud of thin layers came out of the oven. With his great invention on hand, he went to Paris and worked at Rosabau Pâtisserie. He then moved on to Florence and continued to spread his pastry wings.

Pâte Feuilletée (puff pastry dough recipe)

200g plain flour

7g salt

100g cold water

50g melted butter

100g dry butter

(NOTE: Now finding dry butter at your local grocery store might be tricky. Generally US made butter is about 80% butterfat, 17% water and 3% protein. European butters have about 82-83% butterfat. Dry butter's fat content goes up to 86%! You can use the best quality butter you can find. Though the lamination process will be slightly difficult as your butter will melt faster.)

Layered and hungry,

Rosey


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Not-So-Fancy Financiers (SUGAR SORCERY # 3)

Beurre Noisette. One of the many gifts the French have bestowed upon us fortunate foodies. As its direct translation implies, hazlenut butter, which pretty much sums up its celestial flavor. Nutty, rich and smooth. It is personally one of my all time favourite tastes. Brown butter anything, and you count me in!

A financier (pronounced as fee-nahn-see-AY) is a small tea cake, often in a rectangular shape, is made of almonds, flour, sugar, egg whites and of course, the liquid gold, beurre noisette. It is a light, springy and moist cake, best eaten with a hot cup of tea. Its early consumption dated back in 1890, produced by the magical hands of pastry chef, Lasne, who revamped the traditional pastry originally made by the Vistadines or Visitation Sisters. His bakery, located at the Rue St. Denis was near the Paris Stock Exchange. And so as a marketing move, he has transformed the cake into a rectangular-shaped confection to emulate a gold bullion or gold bar. Before you know it, business people in France carried a financier inside their pockets for a quick snack after dealing with actual gold bars. Pooof, the unyielding financier was miraculously born and so has survived the test of time! Selling like hotcakes near or far any financial district! GOLD!

Financier Recipe

145g icing sugar

53g almond flour

55g cake

2g baking powder

1g salt

10g brown sugar (preferably muscovado)

180g egg whites

80g brown butter

Bake at 180 degrees Celsius for about 17-20 minutes.

Perpetually Beurre Noisette hungry,

Rosey


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French Macaron Troubleshooting (SUGAR SORCERY # 2)

Let me tell you a short story of how I have hopelessly and defencelessly fell in love with the French Macaron. Before studying pastry and bakery here in Singapore, I have always been fascinated with this mysterious confection. I have a thing for cookies. The classic chocolate chip always has and will have a special place in my sugar-coated heart. And so I considered the macaron as a "fancier" and not really for masses type of confection. Almonds are now considered on the pricier side and not easily accessible in the Philippines. But the the curious food wanderer in me, of course, wanted to see for myself what really the sugary fuss is about. The science behind the macaron is as complex as human genetics. A slight tweak here and there can make the biggest difference in your finished product. And so, after months of delving into this beautiful craft, macaroning, today, I can say with all confidence, from the bottom of my heart, I love you, my sweet sweet, macaron. I really do.

When we had our french macaron class at pastry school, oh boy let me tell you, was it one of my favourite days of my life. The very next day, I went to TOTT Singapore and went ahead with my eyes closed, bought my very first Kitchenaid (Heavy Duty) with solely producing the best macaron in the whole entire universe in mind. The satisfaction of a perfect macaron batch is as close to nirvana. Like biting into the perfect chocolate bar and hearing angels sing.

And so, to make your human busy lives easier than my confection perfection obsessed life, I share you this troubleshooting tips and tricks that will save your valuable life!

Don't forget to check out my previous post for my recipe!

French Macaron 101

Watch this compilation of failed attempts and why it happened that caused sleepless nights. This is just scratching the surface! I had countless trials that ended up in the confection grave. Sad, sad times..

ENJOY!

Cracked

• top oven heat is too strong
• oven temperature is too high
• under mixing batter / meringue
• not aged egg whites

Flat

• over mixed meringue / batter
• batter will be too runny

Lumpy

• under mixed batter
• pan not tapped 
• air bubbles not popped with toothpick
• almond meal too coarse

Not round / odd shape

• even / warped pan
• piping technique
• reusing parchment

No "feet"

• humidity
• macarons not rested after piping
• under mixed batter
• macarons will be sticky

Uneven / bursting "feet"

• bottom heat too strong
• uneven / warped pan
• too high oven temperature
• "hot spots" in the oven

Thin / hollow shells

• under mixed meringue / batter
• over mixed meringue
• batter will be too thick to pipe

Browning

• oven temperature too high
• "hot spots" in the oven

Start your macaroning!


Hungry and hungry,

Rosey


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French Macaron 101 (SUGAR SORCERY # 1)

What better way to start my "food blog" aka "sugar sorcery" journey than with French Macarons. Pronounced as mah-ka-ROHN. Mmmmm, just the sound of macaron, makes my sugary insides tingle. If you share the burden of being a temperamental perfectionist with me, this is the "perfect" confection for you. A lot is taken into consideration in this mind-boggling dessert. The macaron is just as temperamental. Trust me, I had my fair share of tear-my-hair-out-frustrations in achieving that perfect macaron. I will go ahead and give you the gist of how this heaven-in-a-bite came about.

A humble macaron is a cookie, made of fine almond meal, sugar and egg whites. Often mistaken as the equally coveted, coconut macaroon, who is equally delicious but is in a totally different sugary spectrum. In 1533, our girl Catherine de' Medici of Italy and her army of pastry chefs introduced this confection to France upon marrying Henry II. The name is derived from the Italian word maccherone, possibly from maccare, to bruise, batter, crush. The modern macaron has evolved into different forms and shapes. Pierre Herme, Laduree, Bouchon, Aoki, a few names that is on top of the macaroning game. The flavors today ranges from chocolate, sea foam to frois gras. Macaroners upping their game everyday. Its usual exotic fillings are based on ganache, jams, cremeux, and buttercream. It is traditionally round, flat on top, with its signature "feet" as its unique crowning glory. Aesthetically, how the perfect macaron should look like is subjective. But all the same delicious.

So without further ado, let the macaroning begin!

The Rosey French Macaron Recipe:

100 grams aged egg whites (seperated a day ahead and stored in the refrigerator)

30 grams sugar

5 grams egg white powder

125 grams finely ground almonds
225 grams powdered sugar

Baked at 140 degrees Celsius for 18-20 minutes



Go on below and watch you beautiful, macaroner!

Macaron check list:

Tools and arsenal: piping bag, piping tip # 8, baking sheet/parchment
The meringue: HARD peak
Almond + Sugar mixture: run through finger tips / sifted
Macaroning: folded until the batter has a "tail"
Tapping the pan: get rid of those air bubbles
Toothpick is you bestfriend: make sure you get rid of bubbles / lumps on top
Drying: humidity is your enemy, dry to the touch
Baking: low and steady
Shell + Filling fridge time


Click on this link for Macaron Troubleshooting >> Macaron Troubleshooting



Stay tuned for more sugar sorcery! Part II coming soon, troubleshooting, and why's and how to's!


Hungry and proud macaroner,

Rosey

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GOAL!

Hello there! This is your friendly ol' virtual neighbourhood alien correspondent reporting. Rosey is the name and finding one's purpose is now my game.

I started this blog 5 long years ago wearing my hello kitty night gown, my perpetually enlarged eye bags (more like luggage) fully intact, I was 10 lbs of tear-weight lighter, shards of my heart on the floor shattered into countless pieces. I was in a state that no woman wants to admit she has been through. I was helplessly soul-broken. This is the problem I share with intensely passionate people. We love the hardest, but fall and breakdown immensely hard as well. We might even lose our minds along the way. We can't help it. We love hard or just don't love at all.

I wrote what my heart said. What my soul screamed. What my mind debated and argued. I threw all of these thoughts out in the vast void. Not asking for any answers nor solutions, really. I just wanted to let it all out. If I didn't, if I had let these consume me, I would have inevitably exploded. My microscopic remains drifting in the air. Now you see, I didn't even in the slightest way, attempted to search for someone to save me. It might have been fear that kept me from finding love again. Might have been fatigue too. Love has drained all forms of energy in my body, and so I needed to recuperate.

I didn't even see it coming. One day, I was a male wizard killing pixelated monsters on my Ipad, made pixelated armor-wearing friends, a swordsman, a priest, multiple characters you would never meet else where. I was incognito, top player of the entire game. The next minute, I was seeing a stranger everyday. "Dating" in fact. A cold, reflecting flat screen in between us. And before I could even say chocolate peanut butter cups, I had a ring on my finger. The heavy and beautiful kind.

Our story is meant to be written as a novel. Ah, maybe a comic book! It surely is funny now that I have come to think of it. A modern pixelated fairy tale that is yet to be written.

Now that love has come into my life so unexpectedly, I think it is about time to work on the other things that will fuel that galactic love hence fuel the essences of my galactic life. I feel dumbfounded for not being able to keep up with the demands of this life. "Adulthood" is what they call it now I hear. I am not sure how I feel about that term. To me it should be just life. Yours and theirs. Plain, bedazzled, laced, spiked, however you want to make it. "Aldulthood" makes it sound like a chore. Which is the farthest thing of what I want to call this stage of my life. Making that first strong step and the preceding just as strong steps is the struggle. I want to do the things I love and do things that I am good at. Do them the very best I could. That's the goal.

I want to write everyday. Like what I said, just catapult my mind juices into the boundless void! Just do it. And along the way fish out ideas and breakthroughs that wouldn't have been dug out inside this brain if I didn't. I want to share more. BE more. Let's do it, fellow galactic wanderer! We might be a little late. But we can do it!

Signing off and hungry,

Rosey


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Shine that light!

Greetings beautiful creature of this world!

I am not sure how or why I bumped into your beautiful soul here. But nevertheless, welcome to my humble, feeble, boundless, virtual mind bin. There are no rules here. No genre/categories. No filters. We are all friends in this strange corner of the inter web. You are now my friend. *warm warm, squishy hugs*

I have come to the conclusion that I am running out of time. The hands of time stop ticking for no one. And I feel like I have not caught up with the realities of this lifetime. Every single nano second that we deter ourselves from what the universe has set us to, we stand farther and farther from our destiny. We all have a place in this world. Big or small, we matter. We have a purpose. Our very breath signifies our worth. Our contribution to mother earth.

So the next time you feel like you are a nobody. When you start doubting yourself and hide beneath your sheets. When all you see in front of a mirror is failure and disappointment. Look at the stars. They see you. And they are waiting.

So let's go, virtual friend. We have no time to lose! We have a lot to do! Shine that light!

Trying to shine and hungry,

Rosey

**go on and pass that warm squishy hug! Some one might need it today!

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I miss you, Philippines.

Never have I thought I'd one day be living in a different country. A country where its inhabitants speak different languages, pray to different gods, their houses built on top of each other. It's beautiful. Singapore. Stern and concrete subdued by the ethereal nature. Clean. Safe and straightforward. I have fallen in love not only with a beautiful human but to the beauty of Singapore itself.

Here's the thing. I am about to hit my head with a humility baton, and remind myself I am lucky to be with the person I want to spend my life with. Being a Filipino, with thousands of fellow Filipinos scattered around the world, unable to spend a birthday, a Christmas, all the good and anticipated times of the year, and worse, the bad ones too. Stuck at their desks, taking care of another's child, aiding a disabled, saving a life. When the very ones that matter to them most are infinite miles away, the stars being the sole witnesses of their sorrows.

I miss the Philippines. Mainly because 99% of the occupants of this aching heart are there right this very moment. Some may be snoozing, or is trying to since the karaoke machine next door is too loud. Or having a classic food trip in one of the countless eating stops that grow there like mushrooms overnight. And boy, do I miss my mama's cooking. Don't get me started on those Adobo Squid with coconut milk. Oh my sweet baby Jesus. Love you ma!

I miss my family and friends. So so terribly, achingly much. Is it weird to say my laugh is different here than in Pinas? I don't know how to explain it. It's a muscle I don't get to use as much anymore. It's not sad. It's different, I guess. Somehow an adaptation? Evolution? Indigestion? Who knows? But what I do know for a fact is that I am genuinely and insurmountably happy. I have used that word too many times these past few days. Its meaning becoming clearer and clearer every day since I have begun this new life. This new shining leaf. It's all about contentment. Knowing your needs and wants. Weighing them. Differentiating them. Decisions being made and committing to them. I chose to be happy. Made and continuously making decisions to stay happy.

How about you,wandering reader? How happy is your wandering soul?

'til next time.

Yours and hungry,

Rosey

PS.

I present to you semi VLOGS or attempts in the Philippines that made me oh so nostalgic. Did I mention I do youtube now? Yeah, I know. Weird right? Might I add it is, all of this is, undeniably therapeutic.

ENJOY!

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3:00 AM Chit Chat

Two posts in two days.. *brush the shoulder*

Hehe.. Hello there. It's Rosey. Back at it again. Or at least trying to.

It's feels so weird writing with these same rough fingertips, but in a totally different spirit. Hence, the feeling of a some what out of body experience. The feeling of my skin against letters in bright red lighting. My thoughts being sifted through a system I am not sure how the brain processes. But it does. It works. A pause. Bite the lip. Find the right word. Arrange. Organise. Press. Magic.

Let's start with the things I have stuck with since five years ago.

FOOD. Particularly, pastry and bakery. Well folks, if there's anything in this fickle world I will stick to. It undoubtedly is food. All the edible sorcery the world has, will, and is producing is a blessing we all often take for granted. And shamelessly abuse. I am proud to have graduated this year in Singapore. And have pursued what my heart set me out to. I have been obsessively crafting sugar flowers for couture cakes. That I hopefully one day would make into as a full-time career. I am in love with this art. It's patient, beautiful, so thoughtful and sweet all at the same time. I have always loved drawing. I would spent hours my nose touching my sketch pad, translating how I see the world onto paper. It eventually got me into painting. And doing these edible flowers just satisfies that artistic itch. Each time I make a flower, I learn something different, the slightest curve, delicate crevices that need the utmost attention and care. I love it more and more.

BOOKS. I read every day. Every single dilatory day. As much as I love other things. This is just the water to my plant. The gas to my car. The vinegar to my Adobo. No contest. The feels a really good book makes me feel.. Orgasmic. It can make you cry like a deprived toddler. Laugh like a hysterical hyena. Fall in love like Bridgette Jones. Even a mediocre book sends me vibes and ideas that I will never get from somewhere else. If you're not a reader I don't blame you. As a friend, please take the time to read. Once you find the right kind of book for you, you will be a literature addict. And I will apologise in advance for taking a ginormous chunk of your life. Because you will spend hours and hours staring at words that will pierce right through your core you wouldn't even notice a second of your life ticking away. Khaled Hosseini is your man. Start with his Kite Runner. Followed by A Thousand Splendid Suns. You're welcome.

2:55 am. Score!

Smile for me will you? The world needs it.

Hungry,

Rosey

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Hello. It's me. I was wondering....

Adele is a goddess. *cue in Hello by Adele*

And so it begins again.... 5 year later. *phew*

I think I had become of what I had expected to be. More and less at the same time. Well I am, thanks to human genetics, older. To the human environment and tendencies, rougher. To human prerequisite participation, achy-er. But due to self loathing and adamant self denial, most definitely, not any wiser. Double but, because of a former distant pixelated virtual friend, and the now unyielding, ever so loving husband of mine, blissfully happier. It's actually unadulterated, the truth.. It is the kind of happy I thought people only made up for fun. You know, just to rattle our insides. For fun.

The H word. I myself cannot believe it. If I was reading this 5 years go, I'd slap myself left and right until I wake up from this dream. No, erase that, until I wake up from this delusion. Oh my goodness gracious great goblets of fire. A wife at 24. Who would have thought?

I spent the day reading each and every post I unpublished since I started this blog in 2011. (That is now re-published) I have to admit. Some were unbearably painful. Some annoyingly witty and funny. Most made me, stupidly, tear up. But all gave me this exact same feeling that is running through my whole body to my fingertips as I type. There are no words on how to describe it. Think of Tinkerbell's pixidust in liquid form being injected intravenously. That tingly, sparkling, jittery juice you feel running through your veins. I missed this. I missed writing. I missed this feeling of some how translating my wandering, repressed thoughts into these miraculous letters. My hands get me. They understand. They obey. Unlike this stubborn mouth that disagrees with me. It has this filter that rejects the signals my brain sends and decides to be either completely mute or spastic or both.

I have a lot to tell you. Knowing where to begin is the difficult part. Well I got the awkward, "Hey, I'm married!" part covered. I guess we just have to improvise as we go.

I missed you. And you don't have to miss me too. Just letting you know I really do.

I was wondering.... How are you?

Still hungry even after 5 years,

Hungry Rosey

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Un (one)

Hi.

So... I happen to mischievously run into two casual breakthroughs these past couple of days. Not exactly a head to head collision per se. The impact was gradual, but concise enough for me to finally notice. One. You can be alone. Both in body and ceaseless thought. If you choose to, even in your most clouded modes of disposition, you can freely lash out off the shackles of reality. Put up a forcefield repelling anything that comes close. Build this immeasurable, supremely impenetrable wall around you. A shield. No way in. No way out. And so... I thought again, that perhaps, you might as well have the luxury of  returning, without event the slightest of prejudices, continue life in boundless isolation.

It's funny how life works. What an unsually capricious humor life has... I do admit, though humbly covered in doubtful conviction, I had implanted this idea in my silly head, that by secluding myself from the realities of this world, both its harshness and opportunities, lock my tangible self in my own little disorganized corner, lace euphoric fantasies in my drowning thoughts, that somehow, even just for a little while... I could run away.

But yes... You beat me to it yet again, internet. I was wrong.

Rosey