Chronicle Books Blog

That One Time I Made Cheese.

Bonjour Mes Amis!

Have you missed me? M’avez-vous manquer? Fear not – for I have returned, for (sadly) the last installment of the Lexie/Rachel Project. If you are joining us for the first time, you may not know that I have been on a culinary journey of sorts with The Little Paris Kitchen as my guide. Think Julie/Julia but in a California set, awkward 20-something kinda way, ya dig? You can catch up by checking out my first and second adventures if you like.

Today will be about that one time I made Cheese.

No really, I did, for reals, make cheese. Why this seems magical to me, I’m not sure, but it is. Cheese is probably one of my favorite things ever. I have overpaid for cheese like I have for shoes, plane tickets, and anything else that is truly worth it in the end. I have always pictured the people who made cheese in cute little wooden cottages tucked away in the rolling hills of France, Italy, or Sonoma County (I mean, all San Franciscans have to buy local, right?!) speaking in hushed voices and passing down voodoo secrets which make the cheese taste so delicious. But it turns out, even I (and you! And you!) can be one of those gifted, charmed, cheese-making- people! Enter: Rachel Khoo.

And so it happened like this: as I was flipping through the pages of this lovely book trying to figure out what I wanted to write about next, I landed on the page of Fromage Frais and thought – “like that’s possible” only to read through the incredibly simple instructions below and then, MADE CHEESE. ME. I MADE CHEESE.

Fromage frais
Fresh cheese

Makes about 14 oz

Fromage frais has a smooth, creamy taste and a subtle acidic note, making it less smelly socks and more freshly washed white linen. Of course, an additional plus is that it’s low in fat and cholesterol, but that doesn’t mean it’s low in taste.

• 2 qt 2 percent or skimmed milk, preferably organic but not UHT or homogenized
• 1/2 cup plain live or probiotic yogurt, preferably organic
• juice of 1 lemon (6 tbsp)
• a pinch of salt or sugar
• 2 tbsp heavy cream (optional)

Pour the milk into a large pot. Heat very slowly, stirring gently, until it starts to steam and little bubbles form around the edge (it should not boil at any point). This should take about 20 minutes.

Allow to cool for a couple of minutes before stirring in the yogurt and lemon juice. Leave to sit undisturbed for a further 10 minutes. Return the pot to the heat and bring the milk to a boil. Once it separates into curds (the solids) and whey (the liquid), remove from the heat.

Line a fine-meshed sieve with cheesecloth or a clean tea towel. Place the sieve over a bowl and pour in the separated milk. Scrunch the cloth tightly immediately above the cheese, like making a money bag, and twist to squeeze out any excess liquid. Now tie the corners of the cloth together to form a hanging pouch and thread a wooden spoon through the loop. Hang the cheese over a large bowl or jug (don’t let it sit on the bottom), and refrigerate for 30 minutes or overnight. The longer the cheese hangs, the more the liquid will drip away and the drier the cheese will become.

To serve, twist the cloth as before to squeeze out any excess liquid, then remove the cheese from the cloth and season with salt or sugar. Serve as it comes for a firm version, or beat in a couple of tablespoons of heavy cream for a smoother, creamier cheese.

Serving ideas
Spread the cheese over a slice of toasted brioche or bread, then just let your imagination and taste buds get creative to sweeten or spice it up. These are some of my favorite flavorings.

Sweet: a drizzle of honey or maple syrup or a sprinkling of sugar can be quite sufficient. Or serve with fresh or stewed fruit (berries are especially good). For a crunch factor, try nuts or granola.

Savory: cracked black pepper, a pinch of chile, or freshly chopped herbs (chives, parsley, etc.)

Preparation time: 10 minutes
Cooking time: 25 minutes
Resting time: 30 minutes–overnight

How it went: I actually ended up making this at about 10pm on a school(work!) night. One of my roommates had a spontaneous dinner party earlier, and everyone was still gathered in the kitchen sipping on wine and nibbling at a cake when I realized that I needed to start the cheese so it could sit overnight.

So I followed the recipe to a T, not wanting to mess with science/voodoo cheese magical procedures, and in less than an hour I was draining the curds and whey (love that I just said that without first saying “little Miss Muffit, sat on a tuffet, eating her…”). Everyone knew I was making something for the Lexie/Rachel Project, but had no idea it was cheese until they saw me draining/tying the cheese cloth knot! Needless to say they were very impressed – I upped my DIY/organic San Francisco street cred by a few points and, as I put the hanging ball-o-cheese in the fridge, I felt incredibly accomplished!

Also, IT TASTED AMAZING. See below for a collection of pictures of the making process and my brave roommate Ellie building her English muffin breakfast this morning c/o the fresh cheese! Feel free to also indulge as we did with just the plain cheese and a bit of honey.

And so this lovely little adventure comes to an end in print, but not in life. I have cooked and will continue to cook many recipes from this little book and I encourage you whole-heartedly to as well. It’s a beautiful text that keeps it simple, so that anyone (no matter their culinary level) can enjoy the pleasures of delicious, fresh, French cuisine.

Jusqu’à ce que nous nous revoyions,

Lexie

Purchase: The Little Paris Kitchen: 120 Simple But Classic French Recipes.

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Big congratulations to our guest blogger for this week, Diane Morgan—winner of 2013 IACP and James Beard Foundation cookbook awards! (She is also the author of 17 other cookbooks.) Roots has been included on lists of featured cookbooks for 2012 by The New York Times, Washington Post, Chicago Tribune, Christian Science Monitor, The Seattle Times, Epicurious.com, and The Daily Meal.com.

Finding Our Roots
by Diane Morgan

I was young when the back-to-the-earth natural foods movement of the 1960s started. When Frances Moore Lappe’s seminal book, Diet for a Small Planet, was published in 1971, I bought it and read it cover to cover. To my mother’s dismay, I declared myself a vegetarian who only ate fish—what is labeled a pescatarian today. It was a valiant effort that didn’t last once I went to college.

I look back on those beginnings and think about where we are today, thanks to victory gardens, community-supported agriculture (CSAs), a growing network of farmers’ markets, and ever-expanding national chains of natural foods stores. When the big box stores promote packaged and fresh organic products, you know the message has trickled down. And the push toward healthier eating continues with schoolyard gardens and with educational initiatives coming directly from the White House.

Are we finding our roots? Are we going back today, to generations not so long ago, when our grandparents and great-grandparents ate seasonally and shopped locally because that was their only option? They ate roots because they were cheap, stored well, and were nutritious. They pickled and preserved and planted backyard gardens out of necessity and economy.

I remember fondly the tomatoes my father grew and the sinus-clearing horseradish my grandfather uprooted from his garden in preparation for Passover. My maternal great grandmother “put up” pickles, canned beets, and turned summer fruit into preserves. The neat rows of filled and labeled glass canning jars lined her basement pantry. On a low shelf were the crocks of pickles covered with linen cloth.

What I think of as the revival of back-to-basics home cooking is what our forebears did out of necessity. Bread was baked at home, soup stocks were made from a mishmash of vegetable scraps and bones simmered all day on a back burner, cabbage was fermented and turned into sauerkraut, leftovers were eaten, and nothing was wasted.

I love this sensibility, and believe root vegetables, moreso than many other edible plants, reflect these earlier times of scarcity and economy.

Without the threat of war in Europe, my great-grandparents on my paternal side emigrated from Munich, Germany in the 1850s, prior to the American Civil War. They found their roots in Savannah, Georgia. My maternal great-grandparents emigrated from Lithuania in the 1880s. Like most leaving Europe, they came to the land of promise and opportunity, living modestly as they built a better life. I know from my grandparents’ and parents’ love of family gatherings that their Jewish traditions and holiday foods thrived. Old world ingredients, cooking methods, and recipes were passed down.

These family stories of uncertainty, travel, and hardship from the Old World to the New World are not unlike the intriguing tales of a vegetable’s diaspora from its origins to scattered lands. It’s a lovely metaphor to consider.

Most root vegetables have curious lore and odd stories from antiquity. Stories range from how some roots were used medicinally as aphrodisiacs and to how others were used to treat scurvy. The carrot common in every supermarket today was originally purple in color, native to Afghanistan, and can be traced back three thousand years. However, upon arrival in Europe, its purple hue was not well accepted, and it wasn’t until it was hybridized in the Netherlands from its original purple color to orange that it found favor.

The Buddhists held lotus root sacred as a symbol of purity. It is native to tropical Asia, the Middle East, and Australia, and has been cultivated for more than two thousand years. By around 500 BC it was being grown in the Nile Valley for its exceptional beauty, though the poor found greater value in boiling, drying, and grinding the seeds and rhizomes for food. In China, evidence of its cultivation dates to the Han dynasty (207 BC–AD 220). In India, a golden lotus flower is said to have grown from the navel of the god Vishnu, and, in China and Japan, Buddha is often depicted either holding or seated on a lotus blossom.

An Old World vegetable popular in central Europe and the Netherlands, parsley root is just beginning to catch on in the United States, where it is most commonly found at farmers’ markets. It was grown and used in Germany in the sixteenth century and was introduced to England from the Netherlands in the eighteenth century, though it never really caught on with cooks there. In central Europe, parsley root was one of several vegetables and herbs known as Suppengruen, or “soup greens,” which were traditionally added to the water in which poultry or beef was boiled for use in a soup or stew. If you ask a grandmother of Jewish or central European descent for a list of the essential ingredients in chicken soup, she is likely to include parsley root—my maternal grandmother did!

These tales of families and foods are intriguing and deeply interwoven—not to be forgotten, and in many instances revived. That was my hope in writing my cookbook Roots.

Kashmiri-Style Turnips With Greens

This is an adaptation of a recipe from Raghavan Iyer’s splendid 660 Curries, using baby turnips with their bushy greens instead of the kohlrabi Iyer suggests. Like kohlrabi, turnips “come alive in the presence of sweet fennel, pungent ginger, hot chiles, and smoky cardamom.” Iused two leafy bunches of baby turnips in this recipe, cutting the turnips into halves or quarters, depending on their size. Iused more than half of the greens from the tops. Since the greens cook down so much, you could chop and add all of them if you wanted to, adding a tad more cream at the end of the cooking time to make enough sauce.

Serves 4

2 tbsp canola or other neutral oil
1 serrano chile, stemmed, halved lengthwise, seeded, deribbed, and finely minced
1 tbsp peeled and minced fresh ginger
2 black cardamom pods
1 tsp fennel seeds, ground in a mortar or spice grinder
14 oz/400 g baby turnips, trimmed and halved or quartered, depending on their size
2/3 cup/165 ml water
1 tsp kosher or fine sea salt
About 4 cups/120 g lightly packed chopped turnip greens (from just over 2 bunches baby turnips)
2 tbsp heavy whipping cream

1. In a medium saucepan, heat the oil over medium heat. Add the chile and ginger and sauté until fragrant and soft but not brown, about 2 minutes. Add the cardamom pods and fennel and sauté just until aromatic, about 20 seconds. Add the turnips, water, and salt and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to low, cover, and simmer, stirring occasionally, until the turnips are almost tender when pierced with a fork, about 5 minutes. Pack the greens on top, cover, and let the greens wilt, about 3 minutes longer.

2. Give the greens and turnips a gentle stir and then add the cream. Simmer, uncovered, over low heat until slightly thickened, about 2 minutes. Taste and adjust the seasoning. Serve immediately.

Purchase Roots: The Definitive Compendium with More Than 225 Recipes.

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Our guest blogger (and recipe tester!) this week is Danielle Johnson, Senior Publicist for Chronicle’s Canadian book distributor, Raincoast Books.

If you leave a comment on this week’s post, you’ll be eligible to win the copy of Melissa’s 50 Best Plants on the Planet that we’ll be rewarding to a randomly selected individual (offer good in the US and Canada only).

In my house we love salmon. It’s so healthy, so when I found this recipe from 50 Best Plants on the Planet by Cathy Thomas (on behalf of Melissa’s/World Variety Produce), I had to give it a try. And I was super glad I did. It was so quick and easy to make and so yummy and fresh to eat! I’d suggest blanching the asparagus a bit before making the salad but entirely up to you. I wasn’t quite sure how they would taste raw so I took them for a swim, a HOT swim!

This book is great! Each chapter lists key “best plants” with nutritional information for each recipe. Super great for anyone wanting to really know what they’re eating. I love it because I’m not too jazzed about eating certain veggies, but if I know how good they are for me, I’d be more inclined to give them a shot.

Salmon and “Noodle” Salad

The noodle shapes in this colorful salad are actually ribbons of thinly shaved zucchini. They are combined with diagonally sliced raw asparagus dressed with a citrusy vinaigrette and garnished with slivers of assertive cheese. The salad teams winningly with broiled salmon but is certainly flavorful enough to serve on its own.

Yields 6 servings

Salmon
One 1 1/2-pound skinless salmon fillet (center cut preferred, about 1 to 1 1/4 inch thick)
2 teaspoons extra-virgin olive oil
1/4 teaspoon coarse salt (kosher or sea)
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

Salad
1 pound green or purple asparagus, trimmed
2 medium zucchini, trimmed

Dressing
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
2 1/2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 tablespoon minced fresh basil or dill

Garnishes: 1 ounce pecorino cheese, peeled into shavings; 1 lemon (preferably Meyer), sliced

1. Adjust an oven rack to 6 to 8 inches below the broiler. Arrange a second rack in the middle of the oven. Preheat the broiler. Line a rimmed baking sheet with aluminum foil.

2. To make the salmon: Pat the fillet dry with a paper towel. Place it on the prepared baking sheet. Drizzle with the oil and season with the salt and pepper. Broil on the top rack until lightly browned on top, about 6 to 8 minutes. Turn off the broiler and set the oven to 350 degrees F. Move the salmon to the middle rack and roast until it is cooked to the desired degree of doneness, 3 to 7 minutes. Remove it from the oven and separate the salmon flesh with a fork or knife in the thickest part to take a peek; it should be just barely opaque throughout. Set aside to cool while you prepare the salad. (Note that the salmon can be served warm, but shouldn’t be piping hot for this dish.)

3. To make the salad: Cut the asparagus into thin diagonal slices (leaving tips whole); place them in a bowl. Working from end to end, peel the zucchini into long, thin ribbons using a vegetable peeler or mandoline; add them to the asparagus.

4. To make the dressing: In a small bowl or glass measuring cup with a handle, combine the oil and lemon juice and season with salt and pepper. Mix well and stir in the basil. Taste and adjust the seasoning as needed. Add the dressing to the vegetables and gently toss with wooden spoons or silicone spatulas.

5. Divide the cooled salmon between six plates. Surround each portion with salad. Garnish the salad with the cheese and the salmon with the lemon. Serve.

Meatless alternative: Prepare the salad without the salmon, starting with step 3. If desired, add a pinch of dried red pepper flakes to the dressing.

Nutritional information
(per serving)
calories:  350
fat calories:  230
total fat (g):  25
sat fat (g):  4.5
cholesterol (mg):  75
sodium (mg):  230
total carbohydrates (g):  6
fiber (g):  2
sugars (g):  3
protein (g):  27
vitamin A IUs:  25%
vitamin C:  35%
calcium:  15%
iron:  8%

Purchase 50 Best Plants on the Planet: The Most Nutrient-Dense Fruits and Vegetables, in 150 Delicious Recipes.

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Have you ever made homemade crackers? If you have to resort to store-bought, what’s your favorite cracker brand and type?

Leave a comment and you’ll be eligible to win a copy of guest blogger Ivy Manning’s wonderful, newly released cookbook Crackers & Dips: More Than 50 Handmade Snacks (giveaway good in the US and Canada only).

I’m a food writer and recipe developer, which is a fairly lonely job—I spend most of my time at my keyboard and in my kitchen, alone. That’s why I love throwing big parties; I relish having company around cooking. I am a feeder.

When it came time for me to throw a “launch party” for my Chronicle cookbook Crackers and Dips, my inner feeder really came out. I made double of 12 kinds of crackers and 4 dips from my book. I baked for 3 days, and loved every second of it. I staged the party at the Cheese Bar in Portland, Oregon, a cheese shop of stupendous quality and charm (I secretly dream of being locked inside overnight someday). So in addition to all the crackers, there was cheese, charcuterie, and chutneys, oh my!

Launch parties are a bit nerve racking, especially if you’re at all high-strung (who, me?). Think about it: invite 70 of the best and brightest food writers, chefs, bakers, and foodcentrics from your community to a party and then cook for them. Eek!

It’s something akin to seeing your child perform on stage: You’re petrified for them, you pray they do well, but in the end, you have to just sit back and let them go on. And then you hear the audience’s applause (or “yums” in my case), you swell with pride, and you leave knowing that all the hard work and practice were worth it. There’s your baby, out on its own, looking delicious and making people happy. Wow!

I’ve included a recipe for everyone’s favorite cracker from the launch party, Swedish Caraway Rye Crisps for you to try. They’re as easy as mixing together flour and water, and they’ve got an addictive snap and a earthy caraway flavor that makes them perfect for topping with smoked salmon, or better yet, Smoked Salmon Crème Fraîche Dip from my book. After the first crunch, I know you’ll never go back to store-bought crackers again, promise!

Swedish Caraway Rye Crisps

I fell head over heels in love with dark, crisp rye crackers during a recent trip to Scandinavia. Every morning, my husband and I sat down with his gracious relatives who offered us hearty breakfasts of rye crisps topped with a tantalizing array of gorgeous smoked and pickled fish. It seemed an odd way to start the day at first, but we were quickly hooked. Now the smørbrød breakfast has become something of a weekend ritual in our house; there’s nothing better than lingering over the newspaper while nibbling on gravlax, herring, cheese, and pickles mounded on crisp rye crackers.

These crackers keep really well, so I often make a double batch and give them as gifts, packed into decorative jars or boxes with a jar of Smoked Salmon Crème Fraîche Dip or Fresh Artichoke Dip (both featured in the book) alongside to decorate them.

Makes 30 crackers

1 cup/115 g dark rye flour
1 cup/125 g unbleached all-purpose flour, plus more for rolling
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp fine sea salt
1/2 tsp ground caraway seeds
2 tbsp chilled unsalted butter, cut into 1/4-in/6-mm cubes
1/2 cup/120 ml whole milk
1 tbsp molasses
1 egg beaten with 1 tbsp water
2 tsp caraway seeds

Preheat the oven to 400°F/200°C/ gas 6. Line two baking sheets with silicone baking mats or parchment paper. In a food pro­cessor or large bowl, combine the rye flour, all-purpose flour, baking powder, salt, and ground caraway and pulse or whisk to combine. Add the butter and pulse or rub with your fingers until the butter is in tiny pieces and the mixture resembles fine cornmeal, 15 one-second pulses.

In a measuring cup with a spout, combine the milk and molasses and stir until the molasses has completely dissolved. Gradually add the milk mixture to the flour mixture and pulse or stir with a wooden spoon until the dough comes together into a ball.

On a lightly floured surface, knead the dough until smooth, about 25 strokes. The dough will be slightly sticky; add flour only as necessary. Divide the dough into two balls, cover with plastic wrap, and let the dough rest for 30 minutes. (The dough can be made up to this point and stored in the refrigerator, tightly wrapped, for up to 2 days.)

Run the dough through a pasta maker following the instruc­tions on page 13 until the dough is about 1/16 in/2 mm thick, the 5 setting on most pasta makers. Alternatively, pat one ball of dough into a small rect­angle and roll it out on a lightly floured surface until the dough is 1/16 in/2 mm thick, lifting the dough and rotating occasionally to make sure it’s not sticking, and adding flour only as necessary.

Using a pastry wheel or pizza cutter, cut the dough into long 2-in-/5-cm-wide strips; reserve any scraps. Transfer the strips to a prepared baking sheet and repeat the process of rolling and cutting with the remaining dough and scraps.

Brush the crackers lightly with the beaten egg and sprinkle them with the caraway seeds. Using the bottom of a mea­suring cup, press down gently to adhere the seeds to the crackers. Prick the crackers with a fork or comb. Use a pastry wheel or pizza cutter to cut the strips crosswise into 4-in-/10-cm-long crackers.

Bake until the crackers are golden brown around the edges and no longer pliable, 12 to 15 minutes, rotating the baking sheets once from top to bottom and from back to front while baking. Watch carefully to make sure the crackers do not burn. Cool the crackers on racks and store in an airtight container for up to 3 weeks.

Purchase: Crackers & Dips: More Than 50 Handmade Snacks.

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This week’s guest bloggers are Susie Norris and Susan Heeger, the wonderful authors of possibly the most decadent cookbook of the Spring 2013 season, Hand-Crafted Candy Bars: From-Scratch, All-Natural, Gloriously Grown-Up Confections.

What’s your favorite candy bar indulgence? Do you have a nostalgic favorite candy from childhood that you’ve tried to recreate at home? If you leave a comment on this post, you’ll be eligible to win the copy of the book that we’ll be giving away to one randomly selected lucky person (offer good in the US and Canada only).

Our Favorite Bar of All Time

Nothing sweetens a friendship more than discovering you share a vice. We’re not talking about the dangerous or criminal, but something you feel just complicated enough about to sneak off and do alone, before your roommates or children come home.

In our case, the evidence was tucked into our purses, slipped behind headboards, buried deep in our trash: candy wrappers!

The day our bond became clear—probably through a casually dropped remark about some piece of caramel-rich, nut-laden, chocolate-covered manna in a wrapper (“You—? No! You too??”)—we each felt understood, justified, legitimized in ways we hadn’t before. We shared our tastes and preferences, which were remarkably similar, and Susie, a veteran pastry chef and chocolatier, began to test her creations on me. I appreciated her even more!

Then one night, at a dinner party, the subject of candy came up, and it turned out that everyone at the table—our husbands, neighbors, friends—were all dedicated consumers of Hershey’s, Mars, and Cadbury. Many were also accomplished cooks, familiar with Valrhona chocolate, Maldon sea salt, Plugra butter.

It suddenly seemed plain to us that our secret passion—which was, of course, shared by so many others—could be taken to another level of perfection if we made candy bars ourselves, using the best ingredients we could find.

Very quickly, Susie came up with an artisanal version of our favorite chocolate-dipped, caramel-nougat-peanut bar and cooked up the idea for our book: Hand-Crafted Candy Bars: From-Scratch, All-Natural, Gloriously Grown-Up Confections.

Thinking about that experience—all the happy hours we spent in each other’s kitchens—moves me to amend my earlier statement. Honestly? Nothing sweetens a friendship more than making candy bars together.

Molten-Chocolate Peanut Bars

This is it: our favorite among all our artisan creations. Made with hand-crafted nougat, crowned with peanut-laden caramel, and drenched in good milk chocolate, it has everything we love in a candy bar—chewiness, nuttiness, sweet-saltiness, and that irresistible chocolate-caramel combo. Inspired by the world’s bestselling candy bar, ours adds a double dose of vanilla for extra richness and the visual charm of vanilla-bean specks floating in soft white nougat.

Makes about 24 bars
Time needed about 1hr 20 min

1 batch Soft Vanilla Nougat (see separate recipe below)
1 cup/220 g crunchy peanut butter (preferably organic)
1 batch Basic-Batch Caramel (see separate recipe below)
1⁄2 cup/55 g chopped peanuts (preferably blister peanuts)
1 batch Tempered Milk Chocolate (see separate recipe below)

1 Line two baking sheets with parchment paper or aluminum foil.

2 When preparing the nougat, add half the peanut butter, stir until the nougat is smooth, then scoop it from the bowl with a metal spoon and roll into 3-in/7.5-cm logs. (The shapes may be rough when the nougat is hot. Once it cools, it’s easier to shape more precisely but will continue to be sticky.) Place the logs on one of the prepared baking sheets and set aside.

3 When the caramel has cooled for about 20 minutes, add the remaining peanut butter and stir until smooth. Stir in the chopped peanuts.

4 Using a metal spoon, scoop out enough caramel to form a layer about 1/2 in/12 mm thick on top of each log. Put the tray of logs in the refrigerator for about 10 minutes to set.

5 Have the tempered chocolate at 90°F/34°C. Using two dinner forks or chocolate dipping forks, dip each log into the chocolate. Shake off the excess chocolate, and slide logs onto the remaining baking sheet. Allow the chocolate to set by air-drying the bars with a small rotary fan for about 20 minutes or refrigerating for about 10 minutes. Serve at room temperature.

Store in an airtight container, a zip-top plastic bag, or plastic wrap in the refrigerator for 7 days, or in the freezer for 2 months.

Soft Vanilla Nougat

Nougat has a light, chewy consistency, a bright white color, and a charming ability to hold on to crunchy things like nuts or caramel pieces.

Makes about 4 cups (785 G)
Time needed 20 min

3 cups/355 g ice
3 egg whites
1 cup/200 g sugar
1⁄2 cup/120 ml corn syrup
1⁄4 cup/60 ml water
2 vanilla beans, scraped and seeded or 1 tbsp vanilla extract
1⁄2 tsp salt

1 Put the ice in a medium bowl and set aside.

2 Put the egg whites in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the whisk attachment and set aside.

3 Stir together the sugar, corn syrup, and water in a medium saucepan. Bring to a boil over medium heat and continue to boil without stirring until the mixture reaches 235°F/114°C on a candy thermometer, about 6 minutes.

4 Begin whipping the egg whites on low speed for about 1 minute, just until they are a little frothy. Continue cooking the sugar syrup until it reaches 245°F/118°C. (If your temperature goes higher, shock the syrup by setting the pan in the bowl of ice.) Pour a splash of the syrup into the egg whites, aiming for the space between the rim of the bowl and the whisk attachment. Continue whisking as you slowly add the rest of the hot sugar syrup. Increase the mixer speed to medium and whip until the nougat reaches a full, frothy foam, about 2 minutes.

5 Add the vanilla seeds and salt to the nougat. Keep whipping until it forms stiff peaks, about 3 minutes more. Allow to cool in the bowl. Once it is at room temperature, it’s ready to use in candy-bar production.

Store in an airtight container at room temperature for 3 days or in the freezer for 2 months. (If frozen, thaw an hour in the refrigerator before using.)

Basic-Batch Caramel

Makes about 1 1/2 cups (230 g)
Time needed: 20 min

Chocolate and caramel pair lusciously in many classic candy bars. This versatile caramel’s texture is strong enough to structure a candy bar, yet soft enough to ooze out as you eat it. Its luxurious flavor affects everything around it. While some candy recipes suggest melting down commercial caramels as a time-saver, we strongly advise against it for flavor reasons.

3 cups/355 g ice
1 cup/200 g sugar
1⁄4 cup/60 ml water
2 tbsp corn syrup
1⁄2 cup/120 ml heavy cream
1⁄4 cup/55 g butter
1 tbsp vanilla extract
1⁄2 tsp salt

1 Put the ice in a large bowl and set aside.

2 Combine the sugar and water in a medium saucepan. Stir the mixture until it resembles wet beach sand. Use a moist paper towel to wipe out any sugar that clings to the inside of the pan. (This keeps the crystals from getting into your syrup, which will make it gritty rather than smooth.) Over medium heat, bring the mixture to a boil without stirring. Add the corn syrup and cook for about 8 minutes, or until it first browns around the edges and then turns entirely the color of honey. When the mixture reaches about 310°F/154°C on a candy thermometer, carefully place the pan in the bowl of ice for a few seconds to stop the caramel from cooking.

3 Remove the caramel from the ice but let it cool for another 2 minutes, then add the cream, butter, vanilla, and salt, and stir with a wooden spoon. (Be careful! The still-hot syrup sizzles!) If some of the caramel has hardened on the bottom of the pan, return the pan to the stove and melt the bits into the mixture over low heat. Let the sauce cool a little more, then refrigerate for about 1 hour before using in candy-bar production.

Store in a covered bowl or an airtight container in the refrigerator for 1 week or in the freezer for 2 months.

Conquer Your Fear of Caramel

Caramel, bubbling furiously at high heat in an open pan, scares people. Yet the fact is that while most of us are comfortable turning an oven to 350°F/180°C, caramel cooks at a lower range: between 310 and 340°F/155 and 170°C. Given a few precautions on the part of the cook, caramel is actually wonderfully predictable, versatile, and safe to make.

Technically, when sugar and water boil together, the sugar crystals melt and bind with the water molecules to become a syrup, the syrup thickens, the water evaporates, and the remainder becomes the bittersweet amber concoction we know as caramel. In many of our candy-bar recipes, we rely on versions of this luscious sweet, so here are a few tips to help you past its sticky issues.

• Have a bowl of ice nearby. This serves two purposes: It provides an ice bath to help stop the caramel from cooking once it’s done, and if you accidentally splash caramel on your skin, rubbing it with ice will sooth the burn.

• Wear latex gloves. Most pastry chefs don gloves to work with caramel. Look for the kind medical technicians wear, which are easy to find in drugstores. They’re an extra layer of protection for your hands.

• Keep your movements to a minimum. No running around the kitchen with a pot of hot caramel! Have everything you need handy: ice bath, thermometer, nonstick spatula or wooden spoon, butter, cream, salt. Arrange these near the stovetop where you’re cooking to minimize the risk of spills.

Tempered Milk Chocolate

Makes 2 2/3 cups (800 G)
Time needed 20 min

Milk chocolate’s flavor, while less powerful than that of dark chocolate, is just as precious. Choose a premium brand with 38 to 50 percent cacao.

3 cups/355 g ice
3 cups/465 g chopped high-quality milk chocolate

1 Put the ice in a large bowl and set aside.

2 Reserve a handful of the chopped chocolate, and melt the rest gently in a stainless-steel bowl set over simmering water until it reaches 115°F/45°C on a candy thermometer. Remove the bowl from the heat. Wipe the bottom of the bowl with a dry cloth to prevent water from splashing onto the work surface.

3 Sprinkle the reserved chocolate into the melted chocolate and stir. Cool the chocolate by placing over the bowl of ice for a few seconds at a time, removing it, stirring until smooth, and repeating until the temperature drops to 82°F/31°C.

4 Heat the chocolate again by placing the chocolate bowl back over the simmering water for 30 seconds to 1 minute at a time. Once its temperature rises to 89°F/34°C, the chocolate is ready to use in candy-bar production.

Purchase: Hand-Crafted Candy Bars: From-Scratch, All-Natural, Gloriously Grown-Up Confections.

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