There is no need to explain further on our love with the French macaron....there are no pâtisseries like the macaron, a visual and sensual enlightenment in a minute elegant package. A macaron is a traditional French pastry from Nancy, a commune of the Meurthe et Moselle département, in northeastern France. Dating back to the 18th century, the macaron is made of egg whites, almond powder, icing sugar and sugar. This sweet pastry came out of the French courts' baker's oven as round meringue-like domes with a flat base.
In the early 1930 the tearoom and pastry-shop Ladurée in Paris started selling the new creation of Pierre Desfontaines, grandson of Louis Ernest Ladurée: two traditional dome halves sandwiched with a sweet filling between: the ganache. This resulted in giving the new macaron a larger size, the possibility of flavored garnishes, and a newfound moistness that came from the garnish. Whereas the traditional macaron was sweet and dry and crunchy, the new macaron had the added attraction of being delicately crunchy on the outside, while moist, chewy, and flavourful on the inside.
Apart from the most well known Paris pâtisseries Pierre Hermé and Ladurée for their French macaron creations, it was the jewels at L'Atelier de Joël Robuchon in Hong Kong, that turned my love into a devotion. Unlike the macarons at Pierre Hermé and Ladurée that come in grandes variétés of seasonal flavours, and are not shy to display their vibrant characters, there are only 8 flavours featured at L'Atelier de Joël Robuchon, each with a soft pastel colour that complements the delicate texture of this prized French pâtisserie. The sweetness was much milder than those I savoured in Paris, allowing each of the signature flavours plus the backnote of almond to trigger a more complete and intense chemoreception.
My affair with L'Atelier de Joël Robuchon was not meant to end with just their macarons, when my gaze was redirected towards a pâtisserie featuring no other teas but The Earl Grey....I was sold simply from its stunning presentation - en forme de dôme de mousse gently kissed by a thin dust of sprayed chocolat blanc. It was unimaginable that its taste could be more phenomenal....it was the perfect representation of the marriage between Earl Grey and citron, and tasting it on the rocking Star Ferry ride between Central and TST just gave the extra edge. The flavourful mousse was expertly formed to create a fluid mouth feel, and to heighten the textual experience, the skillful chef added petites pastilles de chocolat croustillant.
Leaving this treasure chest with une boîte de macaron, I knew it was enough to bring forth the jealousy from my strange companion on a dreadfully long flight.
It is not entirely a strange concept to consume foods that are mysteriously "black". In foreign cuisines, we have pastas and sauces elegantly "contaminated" with squid ink, and the East, black sesame made its way through the shadow with its mesmerising aroma. Black soybeans came crashing into the healthy eating market with the features of being lower in carbs and higher in fibre, compared to its fair cousin.
Just when you were expecting that our adventurous palates have been saturated with the culinary arts of darkness, here comes charcoal walking through the back entrance....Yes, charcoal indeed! I am not referring to the carcinogenic derivatives on meats we generate from our most honourable barbeques, but a special variant of charcoal that has undergone a manipulative process of wood or bamboo, where heat no less than 1000 degrees celcius is applied for a pr0longed period of time.
This type of charcoal, Binchō-tan (備長炭) - the wood version or 竹炭 - the bamboo version, is certainly no stranger, but a highly valued multi-tasking gem among the residents of Japan. The origin of Binchō-tan dates back to the Genroku period of the Edo era (1688-1703) in Japan, when a businessman perfected the Chinese art of making charcoal that was introduced in the early 9th century. Binchō-tan is priced for its matching strength to steel, which is achieved through physical activation of the carbon in specially selected high density woods. This activation creates a type of charcoal that conducts electricity (therefore it has the ability to neutralise electromagnetic waves), with an ultimate power of filtration and humidity regulation. These qualities of Binchō-tan appears to be more suitable for household settings, and to the innovative Japanese, it wasn't surprising that they have incorporated Binchō-tan in the culinary setting. Rice becomes more flavourful with improved texture when cooked with Binchō-tan, due to the filtration power of the charcoal, and the leeching of microminerals from the wood, minerals that becomes available only after the activation process.
Don't be mistaken....cooking rice with Binchō-tan alone will not turn your rice black! However, with the constant expansion of the market for healthy eating, and the curiosity of Japanese consumers reaching the stratosphere, the ground version of this black mass has made its entrance to the culinary repetoire (the bamboo version is used for making "edible" ground charcoal). The Japanese believes that the filtration power of charcoal would translate when ingested, and often seen incorporated into flour for bread and pâtisserie items. This trend has infiltrated the neighbouring cities like Hong Kong and Taipei; Hong Kong now has a restaurant featuring sofisticated "charred" dishes!
Studies conducted in Japan have shown that consuming edible charcoal will enhance gastrointestinal mobility, digestion, and the excretion of toxic substances, but the Taiwanese found no convincing evidence to support these claims. What's my take on all these? It is an item I am not ready to incorporate into my daily diet. The porous nature of the charcoal would in theory have the ability to absorb toxic substances within our GI, but this absorption would unlikely be selective. It can interfere with the absorption of certain essential nutrients from our diet, which could lead to nutrient deficiencies. Similar to nutrient supplements, we should take caution with new "ingredients" where the effects of long term intake have not been studied. Despite the doubts, tastings were inevitable with my curiosity. The subtle yet complex bitterness of the charcoal added to the depth of flavours in sweet cakes....the best of all, the charcoal does not stain your tongue! A Sweet Deal indeed!
Makes 30-35 buns
Ingredients:
Sweet Crust -
500g Pastry Flour
100g Sweet Butter - room temperature
125g Lard - room temperature
400g Caster Sugar
8g Baking Soda
8g Baking Powder
50g Evapourated milk
50g Eggs - lightly beaten
1 small pinch Ammonia Bicarbonate - needed to generate the signature checkered top that resembles the epicarp of a pineapple
Chinese Style Bread Dough -
1000g Bread Flour
240g Caster Sugar
150g Eggs - lightly beaten
80g Butter - room temperature
40g Evapourated Milk
10g Salt
18g Active Dry Yeast
350g Water
50g Lukewarm Water - 37 oC
Egg Wash - 1 egg + equal amount of water
Instructions:
Sweet Crust -
1. Using an electric mixer, slowly incorporate sugar, butter, lard and evapourated milk
2. Mix the baking powder, soda, Ammonia Bicarbonate and eggs into the butter mixture
3. Gently fold the pastry flour into the butter mixture
4. Allow the mixture to sit in the refrigerator overnight prior use
Bread -
1. Dissolve 1 tsp of sugar and yeast with 50g of water at 37 oC, allow it to stand for 5 minutes
2. Dissolve the remaining sugar in 350g water
3. Add eggs, evapourated milk, yeast mixture, flour and salt and into 2, knead with hand until all ingredients come together to form a rough dough
4. Gradually add butter into the dough, one tbs at a time, knead until incorporated before adding the next tbs of butter
5. When all the butter has been added, continue kneading the dough until it becomes a soft and shiny spherical mass, about 10 minutes
6. Transfer dough into a buttered mixing bowl that is at least double the size of your dough, cover with damp cloth and allow the dough to raise in a warm area for 1 hour or until doubled in size
7. After the first proof, use your fist to punch the dough to release the carbon dioxide produced by the yeast
8. Knead the dough briefly to reform a rough spherical shape. Divide dough into 30-35 pieces
9. On a floured surface, form each of the pieces into balls by pressing the dough with the palm of the hand and roll in a circular motion
10. Transfer dough balls onto baking sheets, allow at least 2" gaps between doughs. Cover with damp cloth and allow the allow the doughs to proof for an hour or until doubled in size
Assembly and Baking -
1. Preheat your oven to 190 oC
2. Remove the sweet crust mixture from the refrigerator and divide the mixture into 30-35 pieces
3. Roll each of the pieces into circular discs
4. After the bread doughs have completed the second proof, press down each dough gently and lightly brush top surfaces with egg wash
5. Cover each dough with a disc of sweet crust. Brush the surface of discs with egg wash and allow them to stand for 5 minutes. Apply the second layer of egg wash
6. Bake at 190 oC for 10 minutes
Bon Appetit!
Pains or "麵包" from Chinese Boulangerie are well integrated with my cytoplasm; they are the "official" after school snacks for primary school kids, the best mates with your 15:15 coffee, and as for me, it is a love affair from the beginning, one that most likely to last a life time....
It is almost upsetting to see that there is barely any recognition within communities here, apart from those heavy interlaced with Asian influences. Chinese Boulangerie are mostly secluded within Chinese neighbourhoods i.e. Chinatowns in the US, a place for loud Chinese speaking customers to "relax" (the word relax here might seem misused as the constant interception of noisy conversations would suggest anything but place desired for seeking a restful time!). For most with their products well hidden behind counter like gems concealed within a treasure chest, the experience of visiting one could be intimating for foreigners. Despite all the gritty surface, real treasures could be savoured if you are willing to take a dip into this unfamiliar territory!
When I mentioned Pain from Chinese Boulangeries, they are usually the savoury or sweet buns that have emerged from the oven. In traditional Chinese cuisines, their version of buns and sponges are usually blossomed inside steamers; convention ovens are not their gadgets of choice. The foreign occupation of Hong Kong was undoubtedly followed by the demand of foreign cuisines. Baked bread was ranked highly among other items on their list, as it was a necessary item to break their fast. This trend opened up a line of job opportunities for the locals whom were living through poverty and hardship; it also became a possibility for those whom were keen on experiments on new creations that suited the general public.
I have no doubt that Hong Kong folks would be bugged if this introduction did not begin with the Pineapple Bun "菠蘿包", a misleading name for a fabulous creation, as you would not be able to find it on its ingredients list. It is a sweet treat that is no simpler than a fluffy bun with a crispy sweet overcoat.
So why all the buzz? Apart from being simply delicious, it is a signature icon that represents Hong Kong, both its history and character. It is believed that with the lack of resources during post-war periods, and the preference of locals for sweets, left over breads were topped with a pastry made of a dough similar to that used to make Chinese sugar cookies, which consists of sugar, eggs, flour and lard. The crusty sweetness complements the embraced bread that is soft and slightly sweetened. Lard is the key for the dimensions of texture; the sweet crust should be slightly crispy and flaky on the exterior, yet moist and tender at where it meets the bread component.
To up the caloric metre further, this steaming hot bun can be turned into an over-the-top treat with the insertion of an icy cold slab of savoury butter - a creation named Buttered Pineapple Bun "菠蘿油" that is still popular among many and often seen savoured at local Hong Kong style cafes "茶餐廳" and street stalls "大牌檔" (sadly....these true street food stalls are almost extinct in Hong Kong). This treat is certainly not for the faint of heart and absolutely not recommended as an everyday (or should I say every-month) treat. However, this delicate contrast between hot and cold, salty and sweet, crispy and tender, it is a perfect example of heavenly taste with a small package.
To keep up with the trend of fusion cuisines, numerous creations were born with the combination of either savoury or sweet filled centres - custard and Chinese barbeque pork are the favourites among the residents. The most memorable one for me would be the Gam Tou Sou "金桃酥", a creation by a century-old Boulangerie situated in Macau, called Pastelaria Fong Kei "晃記餅家". It is a divine marriage of the Pineapple Bun Crust and the Chinese Wife Cake (a traditional Chinese pastry made with winter melon and almond paste, which gives it the mochi texture).
So why call it the Pineapple Bun? The name originated in 1960s, from the fact that its sugary top crust is cooked to a golden-brown color, and because its checkered top resembles the epicarp of a pineapple. In 2005, "Pineapple Bun" was nominated as a potential typhoon name but was rejected. The director of the Hong Kong Observatory, Lam Chiu Ying, as one of the judges for the naming process, commented: "If we say XX country is being ravaged by a Pineapple Bun, that would be too hilarious."!
