Last week, I received an email from Crosby's introducing their new product: maple molasses. Curious, I followed the link to their website. Sure enough, they have blended maple syrup and (presumably fancy) molasses into a new offering. While I think it is meant to be a pancake syrup, they are releasing new recipes featuring it as an ingredient. First there were muffins, then there were cookies. Both seemed appealing.
Unfortunately, Crosby's Maple + Molasses doesn't appear to be available in local stores yet and I wasn't about to pay the exorbitant shipping fee ($24.01!) for the $8.99 bottle, so I quickly returned to my previously scheduled programming.
But the "Wholesome Maple + Molasses Peanut Butter Muffins" had infiltrated my brain and I couldn't stop thinking about them (peanut butter fiend that I am). And so I returned to their website to read more about the product. The label states that the product is 70% maple syrup, which was enough information for me to mix my own reasonable facsimile. I was in business! (Metaphorically, of course. I am not going to be producing a Maple + Molasses knock off for sale.)
The recipe for the muffins was of interest for the inclusion of both rolled oats and peanut butter. In my head, that meant fibre and flavour. They were quick to mix up, taking less than 10 minutes, and they baked in only 18 minutes. Voila!
Now, I'm not sure how wholesome these muffins actually are. They have three different types of sugar (brown sugar, maple syrup, and molasses) and they contain peanut butter, which is typically high in fat. According to the online calculator I used, they contain 180 calories, 4g fat, 2g fibre, and 5g protein. Of course they do wonderful things for one's mental health, so everything in moderation (including moderation) and all that jazz.
The texture is light and fluffy, which is surprising considering they contain old fashioned rolled oats. They aren't overly sweet and the peanut butter flavour is present but not overpowering. If you really wanted to be extra, you could add peanut butter Chipits or chocolate chips to these, or even some nuts.
I mentioned in an earlier post that part of what I like about the professional chocolatier program is that I'm being forced to try new things. This was the case last Sunday, when one of the assignments required that I make a caramel -- something I had never done before. And let me tell you, it was terrifying.
In an effort to put my own twist on a classic caramel recipe, I decided to use equal parts of white sugar and fancy molasses. Knowing that once sugar gets going, it can spike in temperature quickly, I decided a mise en place set up was necessary. I also pulled a Martha Stewart and added a bowl of ice water in case of burns. And then I started.
The first part of melting sugar and starting to cook it is rather slow and unremarkable, though I do seem to have an irrational fear about sugar burning (perhaps that stems from the fact that if the alarm in my apartment is triggered, the entire building will have to evacuate). As it gets hotter and hotter, of course, it starts bubbling and spurting. As my thermometre crept towards 255 degrees, I was a little anxious about the whole thing. I also couldn't get Dr. Evil out of my head.
Eventually, I hit the desired temperature, removed the liquid hot magma from the burner, and added the vanilla -- which of course caused a new round of spurting and bubbling almost to the point of bubbling over, but not quite.
Following the recipe, I stirred with a wooden spoon and then poured the caramel into a prepared pan. Finally, I sprinkled some pink Himalayan salt over the surface of the caramel while it was still hot so that the salt would sort of melt into the surface.
No need for the bowl of ice water. That was a success in my books.
And then I waited. After about an hour, I poked the surface to see whether it was setting up -- and it was! But I left it for another five hours to be sure it was fully cooled and set before cutting it.
Cutting was surprisingly easy. I wanted a rectangular shape instead of squares to have some variety in the appearance of the bonbons that I would submit. Of course, you don't need a large batch of caramel to end up with an inordinate number of caramels. And when you're cutting them to be enrobed in chocolate, you actually need to account for the thickness of the coating so that you don't end up with a massive treat at the end. I think I ended up cutting this into 96 pieces. And then I was filled with regret: How was I going to enrobe 96 caramels in dark chocolate? Surely that would take forever. And the reality is, I only needed one perfectly dipped caramel to photograph and submit.
I tempered my dark chocolate and prepared for the great enrobing extravaganza. And I discovered something. While my caramel was the perfect texture for eating, it wasn't quite as firm as I would have wanted for enrobing in chocolate. While tempering the chocolate, the caramels had started to slump a little. I was mildly annoyed (and made a mental note to cook it to 260 the next time), but pressed on.
I probably enrobed about 30 pieces of my batch. Each one was dipped in chocolate and then, as per assignment requirements, embellished by tapping the tines of the dipping fork across the surface. It does create a very nice effect.
I wrapped the remaining (undipped) caramels in parchment wrappers. It occurred to me that, while I couldn't really mail my chocolates home to my parents to try -- too delicate without appropriate packaging, plus the cost (which would be about $15) -- I could easily send home molasses caramels. Not only were they less delicate, they also were thin enough to be packed in a bubble mailer and sent regular mail (for only $1.80). Knowing Trooper Ron loves molasses, I put together a package and sent them off. The others, I took to work and shared with friends.
It's perhaps a little difficult to see the detail in this picture -- dark chocolate is difficult to photograph, especially on a white background -- but I'm really happy with how these turned out. And I do plan to try the recipe again to see if I can get a slightly firmer texture that won't slump. Enrobed in chocolate, though, they came out looking like caramel logs -- not a bad outcome.
More importantly, I'm no longer afraid of cooking caramel. Maybe there will be fudge in my future.
While I was thumbing through my Cream of the West Cook Book a few weeks ago, I identified a few recipes that I wanted to try (and noted a few that I would never dare to make). I wrote a list of promising-sounding ones on a post-it note and stuck it to the cover of the book thinking I'd eventually make them all. One recipe, however, stood out -- old fashioned porridge bread. I decided I would make that the following weekend. I had everything I needed except for molasses, so I added that to my grocery list on my BlackBerry and picked it up with the groceries on Saturday morning.
My interest in the porridge bread was sparked by a trip to The Dancing Goat earlier this year. Two of my friends and I had decided that an adventure was necessary -- I think it might have been over the Easter long weekend -- so we hopped in the car and drove to The Dancing Goat for lunch. I had one of the most delicious sandwiches ever and it was on porridge bread.
The recipe in Cream of the West is slightly more involved than a traditional bread recipe. It's unusual in that you first make porridge as the base for the bread dough. If you've looked at the ingredients, you are probably wondering whether I followed it and used the shortening (since in an earlier post, I substituted butter). In this case, I stuck with the shortening -- not because I thought a substitution wouldn't work, but because I had shortening left over from a cake decorating class and wanted to use it up. I did think that there was too much salt in the recipe, so I cut that back by 1 teaspoon. Finally, I adjusted the process so that the salt was mixed with flour (and wouldn't kill the yeast when added). I admit that I used my Kitchen Aid mixer for much of the mixing and kneading (and was very thankful for it, given how heavy the dough actually is).
I do think that there is something "off" in this recipe. I didn't come close to adding as much flour as indicated. I actually can't imagine how one would be able to (and I do recognize that it partially depends on humidity and other factors). Nevertheless, I did end up with a very delicious tasting bread.
Admittedly, it didn't rise as much as I'd hoped. That could be a result of old yeast (mine hadn't expired, but it was close to the date) or not enough yeast given how heavy the mixture is. But without a doubt, this is a truly delicious bread. I plan to try it again very soon with fresher yeast and have no doubt that it will produce the ideal loaf. I'm thinking, however, that next time I may try cutting the recipe in half.
