I suppose there are worse ways to kick off Pastry than starting with The Egg. At least we didn’t jump head-first into sticky. I have to admit, I’m not the biggest fan of eggs unless they are combined with to the point of being overwhelmed by other ingredients.
We first covered all the basics about eggs: details about the shell and what’s inside. The average weight of an egg is 50g, of which 20g is yolk and 30g is the white, aka albumen. This ratio and weight becomes important later, when using the yolk and whites separately in ratios with other ingredients.
The yolk is held in place by the chalaza, the white stringy bit that you see attached to the yolk in fresher eggs. In fact, you can determine the relative freshness of the egg by the obvious presence of both chalazae, and by the firmness of the inner, thick, chalaziferous white surrounding the yolk. As the egg ages, the chalazae weaken and the thick white becomes more liquid as the protein changes in character. As the egg ages, carbon dioxide escapes and the white becomes more transparent as well.
Our recipes for the egg unit included the ever important French Omelette, as best demonstrated by Jacques Pepin himself (french omelette starts at 3:15). We also had to perfect the poached egg (I’m sure this is going to come back to haunt us!), bake eggs in cream (“oeufs cocotte”), a stuffed egg (not unlike deviled eggs), and my favorite, which was a basque omelette that was mixed with a tomato and bell pepper fondue (“basquaise”) sauce.
We first covered all the basics about eggs: details about the shell and what’s inside. The average weight of an egg is 50g, of which 20g is yolk and 30g is the white, aka albumen. This ratio and weight becomes important later, when using the yolk and whites separately in ratios with other ingredients.
The yolk is held in place by the chalaza, the white stringy bit that you see attached to the yolk in fresher eggs. In fact, you can determine the relative freshness of the egg by the obvious presence of both chalazae, and by the firmness of the inner, thick, chalaziferous white surrounding the yolk. As the egg ages, the chalazae weaken and the thick white becomes more liquid as the protein changes in character. As the egg ages, carbon dioxide escapes and the white becomes more transparent as well.
Our recipes for the egg unit included the ever important French Omelette, as best demonstrated by Jacques Pepin himself (french omelette starts at 3:15). We also had to perfect the poached egg (I’m sure this is going to come back to haunt us!), bake eggs in cream (“oeufs cocotte”), a stuffed egg (not unlike deviled eggs), and my favorite, which was a basque omelette that was mixed with a tomato and bell pepper fondue (“basquaise”) sauce.
Having mastered the egg, we moved on to Crèmes and Flans (née custards). We had to master the three types of custards: stirred, starch-bound, and baked.
For our stirred custard, we made a Crème Anglaise. Its a good one to master, because its the basis for Bavarian creams and custard-style ice creams. I guess I don’t mind Pastry if it involves more cream than sugar. The crème anglaise starts out by whisking together yolks with sugar until they become very pale, or “blanchir”. Then we temper the yolks with some boiled milk, stir everything together, then cook over low heat until “nappant”, which is when the cream is thick enough to leave a line when a fingertip is drawn across the back of a coated spoon.
The starch-bound custard was the easiest, because the starch stabilizes the mixture and prevents the eggs from curdling. We made a crème pâtissière, which is prepared by combining starch, eggs, and sugar in a bow and then tempering with the heated milk. The mixture is then placed back on the heat and whisked until it’s smooth and no longer grainy. It’s the only custard cooked above 180f, since the starch has to be boiled for at least two minutes to fully cook.
The hardest thing about the baked custard, crème renversée, was that we had to coat the inside of a ramekin with caramel that was cool enough to stick to the sides, but hot enough to still be liquid and pourable. We then filled the ramekin with the custard mixture and carefully baked it until just firm but not overcooked.
For our stirred custard, we made a Crème Anglaise. Its a good one to master, because its the basis for Bavarian creams and custard-style ice creams. I guess I don’t mind Pastry if it involves more cream than sugar. The crème anglaise starts out by whisking together yolks with sugar until they become very pale, or “blanchir”. Then we temper the yolks with some boiled milk, stir everything together, then cook over low heat until “nappant”, which is when the cream is thick enough to leave a line when a fingertip is drawn across the back of a coated spoon.
The starch-bound custard was the easiest, because the starch stabilizes the mixture and prevents the eggs from curdling. We made a crème pâtissière, which is prepared by combining starch, eggs, and sugar in a bow and then tempering with the heated milk. The mixture is then placed back on the heat and whisked until it’s smooth and no longer grainy. It’s the only custard cooked above 180f, since the starch has to be boiled for at least two minutes to fully cook.
The hardest thing about the baked custard, crème renversée, was that we had to coat the inside of a ramekin with caramel that was cool enough to stick to the sides, but hot enough to still be liquid and pourable. We then filled the ramekin with the custard mixture and carefully baked it until just firm but not overcooked.