A spicy cheesecake for a white Christmas with friends....

~ Spicy Kabocha Cheesecake with Gingersnap Crust ~


This recipe is an extention to a previous article on Kabocha.
"Giving Thanks with Kabocha....the Japanese Pumpkin...."


Crust:
1 3/4 cups ginger snap crust
1 stick melted salted butter

Filling:
500g cream cheese, at room temperature
100g mascarpone cheese, at room temperature
1 cup roasted Kabocha, pureed
4 eggs
~2/3 cup sugar, depending on the sweetness of the roasted Kabocha
1 teaspoon pumpkin spice mix
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger


1. Preheat oven to 350oF.
2. In medium bowl, combine crumbs and melted butter. Press down flat into a 9-inch cake pan. Refrigerate for 1 hour.
3. Beat cream cheese until smooth. Add pumpkin puree, eggs, yogourt, sugar and the spices. Beat together until well combined.
4. Pour into crust. Spread out evenly and bake in a waterbath for 45-60 minutes. Remove from the oven and let it cool at room temperature. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate overnight.


Bon Appetit!

Macaron de la divinité captures the essence of this mulberry purple coloured root....

~ le Macaron aux Taro~
Taro flavoured macaron filled with coconut white chocolate ganache


This article is part of "The Macaron Series"
http://lafleuraucacao.blogspot.com/2009/10/in-mood-for-loveand-macaronthe-macaron.html


As the potato of the humid tropics, I consider Taro is one of the most flavourful root, is commonly used within Chinese cuisine in a variety of styles; in desserts it is used in sweet soups, bubble tea, and as a flavouring in ice cream and other desserts in the China. McDonald's sells Taro flavored pies at their stores in China! To celebrate my inner passion for this mulberry purple coloured root, what could be more suited than disguising its essence behind the shining dome of a macaron?

For the Macaron Recipe, please click on this link below for the recipe for the Earl Grey Macaron:
http://lafleuraucacao.blogspot.com/2009/10/earl-grey-macaronnew-creation-for.html

* Replace the 8g of Earl Grey tea powder with 8g of Taro powder



~ Coconut White Chocolate Ganache ~

4 tbs Coconut Powder (can be found in Asian supermarkets)
4 oz White Chocolate Couverture, finely chopped and place in stainless steel bowl
1/2 cup Heavy Cream

1. Mix 2 tbs of heavy cream into the Coconut powder to form a smooth paste
2. Place the remaining heavy cream in a saucier over medium heat and bring it to a near simmer
3. Pour the hot cream over the finely chopped white chocolate, and very gently stir until all white chocolate pieces have melted
4. Stir in the Coconut paste until it has completely incorporated with the white chocolate ganache
5. Allow the Coconut ganache to cool and thicken
6. Place the Coconut ganache into a piping bag to assemble le Macaron aux Taro!


Bon Appetit!

Choux shines and shimmers upon your holiday dinner table....Cygnes pâte à choux!

There’s something about choux paste that is both merrily absurd and very much miraculous. With a preparation that seems to defy pastry logic, a wicked but sensual challenge lays ahead to perfect this tricky treat!



You cook a paste of water, butter and flour over the stove and then furiously beat eggs into the irredeemable mess looking dough. But with some love and patience, and the blessing from your mixer paddle, the dough comes together into a glossy, golden thick lava. When baked, it inflates into gloriously hollow ornaments, perfect for filling. It’s no wonder choux paste inspires goofy desserts like the towering, pyramidal croquembouche, the bicycle-tire-shaped Paris-Brest and the special Cygnes pâte à choux, shimmering swans that are magical for the most special occasions.

With its almost impossible flexibility, pâte à choux can be used to make profiteroles, croquembouches, eclairs, French crullers, beignets, St. Honoré cake, Indonesian kue sus, and gougères. A chef by the name of Panterelli invented the dough in 1540. He used the dough to make a gâteau and named it Pâte à Panterelli. Over time, the recipe of the dough evolved; a pâtissier in the eighteenth century, created what were then called Choux Buns or Pâte à Choux, as they resemble cabbages – choux in French.


Pâte à Choux

1/4 cup water
1/4 cup whole milk
Pinch salt
Pinch granulated sugar
3 1/2 tablespoons unsalted butter, cubed
1/2 cup bread flour
2 to 3 large eggs

1. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Place the water, milk, salt, granulated sugar, and butter in a 4-quart heavy-bottomed saucepan, set it over medium-high heat, and bring to a boil. The butter should be completely melted by the time the mixture boils.

2. Remove the saucepan from the heat immediately. Add the bread flour all at once and incorporate it thoroughly with a wooden spoon.

3. Return the saucepan to the stove and cook over medium heat for about 3 minutes to dry out the paste. Keep the paste moving, or it will burn. The paste will dry out and leave a thin film on the bottom of the saucepan.

4. Remove the saucepan from the heat and transfer the paste to a large mixing bowl. Mix with an electric mixer set on low speed for about 2 minutes to release some of the steam.

5. Continue to mix and slowly add the eggs 1 at a time, incorporating well after each addition. After you have added 2 eggs, check the consistency by scooping a large amount of the paste onto a wooden spoon. Hold the spoon horizontally about 1foot above the bowl and watch as the batter falls from the spoon back into the bowl. If it is pale yellow, smooth, moist, slightly elastic, sticky, and takes 5 to 7 seconds to fall into the bowl, it is ready. If it appears rough, dry, and falls into the bowl in 1 big ball, it needs more eggs. Add another egg and check the consistency again after it is well incorporated.

6. Transfer the pastry to a bag fitted with a small coupler. Pipe about 1/2 tablespoon of the pastry into a mound on the prepared baking sheet, spacing pastry about 1 1/2 inches apart.

7. Brush the top of each mound with water. Bake until the puffs are golden brown all over, about 30 minutes. Remove from the oven, transfer to a wire rack, and let cool completely.


Bon Appetit!

The craving for Zenzai rises....reciprocal to the rapid plunge on our thermometers....

As the temperature plunge below zero Celsius, I am reminded of how much I miss the homemade Zenzai I had at a Japanese-run restaurant when I last visited LA, a rare find as most restaurants would attempt the usual short cuts with pre-made azuki or red bean paste or powder. One spoonful of this homemade Zenzai was enough to immerse yourself in the determination of the chef in bring out every essences of these tiny red coloured beans. The texture from the warm mochi heightens the experience as it lively dances between your molars.


Zenzai, or red bean soup refers to a number of traditional Asian soups, all made with azuki beans. In Cantonese cuisine, red bean soup is one of the most popular dessert. The love of this dear sweet bean among the Cantonese has led to continuous experiments in kitchen closets, generating an exponential explosion of ideas that put spins on this famed sweet soup that is traditionally served hot after dinner. From pairing the soup with the Chinese sesame glutinous rice dumplings to a fusing it with the Chinese tofu dessert, from coagulating it with coconut milk into a mousse-like pudding to freezing the leftover soup into icicles, we have just begun to explore the potentials of this bean.


Among all the various and fasinating trends, it has always been the traditional steamy one, with its comforting texture and luring scent, that captures my heart. Different from the Japanese cousin, the textural component of the Cantonese red bean soup comes from the cooking method for the beans. It takes a skillful master to simmer the selected red beans to perfection, where they remain visually intact, but melt into sandy sweetness with just the slightest pressure at the tip of your tongue.


The aroma from the red beans is an essential component, but if it is not accompanied with the luscious scent from the sun dried Chinese tangerine peels, this sweet soup would not be complete. Similar to some red wines, the magical scent of this peel increases in complexity and character as well as intensity with age and attention. I was often caught taking whiffs of my father's thirty years old batch, I have yet to try making red bean soup with it. I could hardly imagine the experience of taking a sip of the version from a famed Hong Kong restaurant, where their master secretly slip in a piece or two of their highly treasure tangerine peels, at an age of over 100 years!