Boston Cream Pie

It's not that Kurt doesn't think about mealtime, but he doesn't spend nearly as much time thinking about food as I do. He almost never asks what's for dinner or what's for dessert and very rarely makes any special requests. He says he trusts I have it covered, and it's true that I usually do. However, once in a while, especially when I've been on a light and healthy kick, he'll say something like "are we having Boston cream pie for dessert?" He loves it. I have made it a time or two, but since I'm always trying new recipes, it hadn't appeared on our table in years. So, when I was reading my review copy of Maida Heatter's Cakes and came upon her version of Boston cream pie, I had to give it a go. I mentioned previously how much I trust Maida's recipes, and she claimed this was the best version of Boston cream pie she's tried. Sold. She noted that she doesn't know why it's called a pie, and neither do I.

Two layers of sponge cake are filled with vanilla pastry cream, and the pastry cream is the first item to prepare so it can be chilled. This pastry cream was made in the usual way with eggs whisked in a bowl and set aside. Flour, salt, and sugar were combined in a saucepan, and milk was whisked into the mixture. That was brought to a boil over medium-low heat and stirred until thick. The hot milk mixture was slowly whisked into the eggs in the bowl, and then that was poured back into the saucepan where it was heated while stirring constantly. Once thickened, vanilla and almond extracts were added off the heat. The pastry cream was transferred to a bowl and left to cool with parchment paper pressed directly on the surface to prevent a skin from forming. The sponge cake was simple enough. Egg whites were whipped with some sugar until they held a soft shape, and egg yolks were mixed separately with sugar until very light in color. Vanilla, lemon juice, and some cold water were mixed with the yolks. The yolks were folded into the whites, then the dry ingredients including flour and baking powder were folded in as well. Last, melted butter was just barely folded into the batter. The batter was baked in a nine-inch round pan, and next time, I think I'll use an eight-inch pan because it spread out somewhat thin. Once the cake was baked and cooled, it was sliced in half and filled with the chilled pastry cream. The filled cake was topped with a simple chocolate ganache made with chopped semisweet chocolate and cream.

This was exactly what's expected from a Boston cream pie. The cake was tender and fluffy, the filling was rich and nicely vanilla-flavored, and the chocolate ganache was the perfect contrast on top. I don't know if it was the best Boston cream pie ever, but I'll probably eventually try several others for comparison's sake. Most importantly, Kurt was thrilled to open the refrigerator and see what was for dessert.

Practice Eclairs

I had made pate a choux, vanilla pastry cream, and chocolate glaze before, but I had never made them all at the same time in the form of an eclair. I decided it was high-time I do so, and I grabbed Wayne Harley Brachman’s Retro Desserts for a recipe to follow. I’ve had this book since it first came out in 2000, and it’s full of fun, well-known desserts with everything from cakes and pies to ice creams and candies. The book is described as bringing together kitsch desserts for today’s kitchens and letting you make your remembered favorites entirely from scratch. The cream-filled devil’s food cupcakes bring back Ho Ho’s. I’ve never had cherries jubilee, but it’s in the book too. I’ve made the banana pudding which was fantastic, and I’ve always wanted to try the banana peanut butter sandwich cake. Then, there’s the rocky road pizza pie and the white-chocolate grasshopper pie to try. I could go on and on, but I was explaining about the eclairs.

I’ve named this post Practice Eclairs because these were so far from perfect. In fact, they were so ugly only their mother could love them. When it came time to pipe the dough into eclair shapes, I rather failed at the task. They ended up too wide and too flat and didn’t puff up enough to make them look any better after baking. I also made a few minis which were kind of cute, and I would love to make an entire batch at that small size. The mini version is shown at the top of the post. Making the pate a choux was easy enough. I’ve made Ina Garten’s gourgeres, and her technique involves a food processor to incorporate the eggs. Brachman suggested using an electric mixer which also worked fine, and either method is much easier than stirring in each egg by hand. So, making pate a choux is no problem; piping it into appropriate shapes still needs work.

The vanilla pastry cream was also not a problem. I’ve followed the recipe in this book several times, and it always turns out great. For filling the eclairs, this recipe suggests slicing the top off each one, pulling out some of the interior dough, and spreading the pastry cream on the bottom piece. Then, the top pieces were dipped in the chocolate glaze and set aside to dry. Tops found bottoms, and they were done. Slicing the eclairs to fill them, instead of hollowing them with a skewer and then piping in the filling, seemed like cheating. I think it also contributed to their unsightliness. However, the look of them stopped mattering as soon as I tasted them.

Freshly made eclairs are a wonderful thing. The pastry cream made with a vanilla bean had incredible flavor, and the chocolate glaze with espresso was amazing. I want to try again and do a little better job of piping the dough into eclair shapes. And, I want to try some other recipes to compare and contrast and fill them without slicing, but deliciousness won out over ugliness with these for certain.