28 days of hot chocolate

Step right up. It’s Hot Chocolate Festival time!

For the next 27 days, you can sample something different from City Bakery’s annual deluge of fun, funny, inspirational and always delicious cocoa flavors.

 

You can get it with a homemade marshmallow to stay.

Or take it to go.

I’m especially keen for banana peel (today and the 23rd), caramel (the 3rd), bourbon (8th), black rum & cinnamon (22nd) and the ode to the polar bear (27th). What about you?

Paris-Brest, Paris-New York, Always Divine

Phew. I got to indulge in Jacques Genin's glorious Paris-Brest just a month before he put the kibosh on making pastries. So enamored was I, I also went for Philippe Conticini’s award-winning Brest. Both were divine: rings of choux pastry, piped full of rich hazelnut pastry cream. Classically French, undeniably indulgent.

So why stop now? It may be a new year and a different city, but that’s no reason not to indulge in the French classic when the opportunity presents itself.

Not that the Paris-Brest readily presents itself in New York. Macarons are ubiquitous. Baba Rhum is creeping onto menus around town. The Paris-Brest is more elusive.

But when Dominique Ansel opened his Soho bakery a little over a year ago, this was the pastry that garnered him a lot of attention. (That and his oh-so-sweet-sticky-buttery-perfect Kouign Amann).

Ansel, inspired by his go-to snack when he first came to the city—none other than a Snickers bar—replaced the hazelnut cream with rich dark chocolate and savory peanut butter that meld beautifully between the softly crunchy rings of pastry.

He also miniaturized it—perhaps the only dessert that is smaller here in America than in France.

And showing the French flair for artistry, dots of peanut butter and candied nuts decorate the salted caramel glacage on top. 

It's reassuring to know this French beauty is so close here in New York.

Long live the kings!

January sixth is the Day of Epiphany in France—a religious holiday that celebrates Christ being visited by the Three Kings on the Twelfth Night. Fair enough. But what makes the holiday worth nothing is that the French celebrate all month long with wonderful galettes des rois.




The cakes beckon from everywhere; from neighborhood boulangeries to renowned patisseries, hard to miss because of the paper crowns that top them.

They’re not the prettiest cakes the French make. But they’re exquisite for anyone who loves creamy almond paste as much as I do.



The construct is relatively simple—essentially frangipane (almond paste) inside flaky puff pastry. A little egg and sugar, maybe some crème fraiche or Grand Marnier. It depends on the recipe and baker. But I’m quite certain all versions are delicious.


There are also some strange traditions associated with this celebration: a small plastic charm, une fève, is hidden inside for some lucky recipient to get and become king for the day.

Once the galette is cut, a child hides under the table to give the name of the person that will be served next.

The galettes are often washed down with cider or dry white wine.

Another reason to love the French.

Reposted from 2010. 

If it's cold, it must mean hot chocolate

It's winter, for sure. The days are short and, now, cold. Which means, times for City Bakery hot cocoa.

I was all too happy to indulge in my first cocoa of the year with Mademoiselle Lindsey.

Have you had your first cup of the season? If so, where??

Nutella Butter

They called it Nutella butter. It was more like Nutella bologna. But when Ben and I ordered the Stuffed French Toast at the Four Seasons, we were quite sure it was going to be delicious, no matter what the menu read.

At $24 a plate, it's decadent in more ways than one. Some might say, not worth it. But the texture of that Nutella butter-bologna has been haunting me ever since...

A new Pralus in Paris, more Praluline in Paris

Say the word "praluline" (pray-looo-lean) to someone, and they'll think you're doing tongue exercises. Say it to any one of the hundreds of people who buy the beautiful brioche every day, and they will swoon. Much like I have ever since this specialty made by the chocolatier Pralus became the object of my obsession a couple years ago.

It was over 50 years ago that the first soft, buttery pastries chockfull of house-made, rose sugar-coated Valencia almonds and Piedmont hazelnuts were created. It is squishy and crunchy, savory and sweet, a beautiful little bomb of flavors and textures that is irresistible and unique.

Each time I visit Paris, I look forward to devouring one. This is a problem as "one" could easily feed four. So I was going to let it slide this past visit, having sampled plenty of breakfast pastries and Parisian cakes. But wouldn't you know: Pralus opened a second boutique in the city, on rue Cler. Just a lovely stroll from the apartment where I was staying.

Needless to say, I needed no further excuse or prompting. I bought myself a six-euro, soul-satisfying treat on my last day. Took home the carefully wrapped present.

Sliced into it.

And sighed at the utter perfection of eating a praluline in Paris.

The best brests in Paris

It is said that Philippe Conticini makes the best Paris-Brest in Paris. Indeed, a visit to La Patisserie des Reves reveals a master has been at work.

But what about Jacques Genin? His Brests are nothing to sneeze at.

It was essential to plunge into this delicious debate. A Paris-Brest is a rare treat. I've had only a handful in my life. Having two in one week was pure hedonism.

Conticini's creation is six petite pieces of choux pastry strong together like an exquisite necklace of pearls. Except inside each puff is a thick and rich, decadent crème pralinèe. In other words: heaven.

Jacques Genin takes a little more liberty with his crème pralinèe (for some, bigger is better, n'est-ce pas?) His pastry is a more traditional ring, dusted with hazelnuts.

Everyone has their own preferences and predilections. I would go for either man's brest. Conticini's is compact, refined, densely powerful. Genin's is light and airy, over the top wonderful. Both are wonderful specimens.

Breakfast in Paris

There's nothing more promising than a little parcel expertly wrapped up like this:

And what lies inside... heaven...

So wonderful I had to do it again.