Mango Mania: A Tart of Leftovers

So my parents bought two cartons of strawberries and five mangos the day I had to make the cake. I was planning on stuffing the Napoleon with mango but decided not to in the end thus we had a lot of fruit leftover.

The dilemma was that though we had eaten one mango, the three leftover ones that were bought from the ‘upscale’ grocery store were incredibly small and sour while the remaining good one was from the street market. I decided to slice up the mangos and make a tart using a hybrid of recipes that I like.

A Work in Progress

I need to learn how to slice mangos nicely or find a mango that tastes as good as it looks. So far the Filipino one are the most fragrant with the sweetest taste while Mexican ones are large (easier to slice) but down in scent and flavor.

Sorry I know the tart isn’t pretty because I was dealing with overripe mango that turned into blobs as soon as I sliced its tender flesh, or they were so unripe that they looked yellow compared to the orange of the ripe one. But it did taste really good. Next time: more mangos and less cream (although I could eat that with a spoon). I will also practice slicing mangos.

Please take a slice

MANGO TART

Crust

I consider the crust I made for the Poached Pear Wine Tart as my standard recipe now. It’s got that buttery shortbread taste that feels like you’re eating a cookie but bette. I won’t post it again, so refer back to here: Poached Pear Tart Crust

Filling

Seriously the BEST filling I’ve ever had.  I’d use this to pair with any kind of soft, sweet sour fruits. A little lemon and ginger counteract the creaminess and sweetness of the medley of cheeses. Omg, I could eat it by the spoonfuls. And it’s so easy! Taken from this recipe: Nectarine and Mascarpone Tart in Gingersnap Crust

1 8-ounce container mascarpone cheese*

6 ounces cream cheese, room temperature

1/4 cup sour cream

1/4 cup sugar

1 tablespoon grated lemon peel

1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 tablespoon finely chopped crystallized ginger

Beat first 6 ingredients in medium bowl until smooth. Beat in crystallized ginger. Spread filling in prepared crust. Cover loosely and refrigerate at least 2 hours and up to 1 day.

Assembly

Fill tart with cream and slice mangos. Arrange as you like. You can dice the mangos into cubes or try slicing them. Eat.

The mini- we ate this one while watching HK dramas as soon as it was assembled

Wedgwood in daylight

3.3 Poached Pear Tart: Putting the Pieces Together

美女廚房: Baking Edition

So in HK there’s this cooking show called ‘Beautiful Cooking’ based on pseudo models who essentially have to ‘cook’ for a guest panel of male judges while wearing skimpy outfits.

Screw that, we got our own ”美女廚房” right here except we can actually produce something quite impressive. So here is the final step. I usually do this about two hours before serving it to ensure that the crust is still crisp and not soggy- but I know how hard that is to time. And gainm you can find the full recipe here:

 

Remove pears from poaching liquid. Pour poaching liquid into medium saucepan; boil until syrup is reduced to 1/2 cup, about 10 minutes. Chill wine syrup until cold.

Cut pears lengthwise in half. Scoop out cores and center veins; cut off stems. Place pears, cut side down, on triple-thick layer of paper towels. Cover with triple-thick layer of paper towels. Pat pears dry, changing paper towels as needed to absorb excess liquid. Cut each pear half lengthwise into 4 to 6 slices.

Spread pastry cream in crust. Arrange pear slices decoratively atop pastry cream, covering completely. (Can be prepared 2 hours ahead. Cover loosely and chill.)

Scatter caramelized pistachios over tart. Cut tart into wedges and serve with wine syrup.

 

A Visual Guide to Prepping Pears

I cut out the caramelized pistachios (I did almonds for Stacy’s) because I thought then there were too many complex and overwhelming flavours and textures from just a slice. Rather, I substituted this by making a vanilla bean cream. My cousin took me to an American bulk buy grocery store in Sheung Wan called ‘Gateway’ and lo! I found five vanilla beans in a test tube for $88! What a steal! Actually perhaps not but I will pretend like it’s cheap and whip them out occasionally when the dessert deserves a little more class. Kidding.

Gutting a Vanilla Bean

 

Agnes and I divvied the pear tarts: the largest one went to my coworkers while we gobbled one up as a tester, one for my cousin, the other for a friend and Agnes took the other two.

When tea time came at our office, at the sight of the tart one coworker goes, “who are you???”
I am Sara Lee and Betty Crocker reborn as a Chinese. Kidding.

And what did our guest judge give us out of ten? 9.5/10: 0.5 off because the crust was a little too thick.

1.3 Poached Pear Tart: Pears and Cream

Philina's Poached Pear Tart which includes a photo I took on Victoria Island, BC

 

Every baker, I believe, at one point in their gastronomic explorations has an “ah ha!” moment where they realize “hey I can actually add a little flour, sugar and eggs and create something pretty awesome” Being one who usually played it safe, my repertoire up until March consisted mostly of chocolate, cream and cake. Everything I made was essentially brown in color: triple chocolate cake, fudgey brownies, and tiramisu. It wasn’t until when I asked Stacy what kind of confectionery delight she wanted to celebrate with to mark her birthday, she requested a fruit tart.

There’s a reason why I avoided fruit for all this time.
Fruit requires good timing: you have to ensure that the fruit is ripe but not soft. Fruit requires buying in advance therefore knowing exactly what you want to make a week in advance. You can’t just do it on a whim, you need to be organized and calculated. In addition to this, oxygen and vulnerable bare flesh aren’t a good mix when it comes to organics. The lemon becomes your best friend: a wedge of its acidity to counter slices of apple from browning and pears from spotting. You pray that there aren’t any blemishes; replacements aren’t easy to find. It’s a race against time. And that’s why I avoided fruit. But with this new challenge and with my pride at stake, I couldn’t say no. Whenever I think of fruit tarts, my head conjures up pictures of over-glazed mixed fruits frozen in gelatin on soggy crusts.
I am unsure why I decided to tackle such a difficult project such as this Poached Pear Tart that I found on epicurious.com. Perhaps it’s because of the ratings or because I really like pears but anyway, that final hour where I was putting it together, I realized, I had overcome a huge hurdle as a baker.

I could do fruits.
That opened a lot of doors for me particularly concerning aesthetics: there is only so much you can do with chocolate particularly concerning colour palette. But with fruit? Floral motifs, sun flares radiating outward bursting forth in juicy gloriousness… not to mention the colours: mango yellow, quiet plum purple, ruby red and cheeky blush pink. I decided to do break up this entire recipe into three parts: one for every day, for every step of the process. Three days because I didn’t want to feel rushed or pressured to finish it on time. I must say that the lengthy process is worth it though: the tart is unique in its way of poaching in wine which reflects a taste of red cherry, pear, almond and butter. It’s a tart worth making if you want to impress guests or a date (just not a first date lest it goes awry and you realize you’ve spent more time baking than the hours spent together. =P). It’s really simple actually so I’ve broken down the steps lest it looks overwhelming. I’ve simplified the recipe- caramelized nuts aren’t really necessary, but I do make a vanilla bean cream to go with it. I don’t usually like the taste of wine but really this recipe will turn anyone into an alcoholic (kidding). I’ve included a visual step-by-step here photographed by yours truly for those visual learners out there. 😛 You can get the original recipe from epicurious here

Day One:

Pastry cream

• 2/3 cup shelled raw unsalted natural pistachios
• 7 tablespoons sugar, divided
• 1 1/3 cups whole milk
• 4 large egg yolks
• 3 tablespoons cornstarch
• 2 tablespoons (1/4 stick) chilled unsalted butter, cut into 4 pieces
• 5 tablespoons whipping cream

Poached pears

• 3 cups fruity red wine (such as Zinfandel)
• 3/4 cup sugar
• Peel from 1 orange, removed with vegetable peeler in strips
• Peel from 1 lemon, removed with vegetable peeler in strips
• 5 medium-size firm but ripe pears (such as Anjou), peeled, rubbed with cut side of lemon wedge

For pastry cream:
Finely grind pistachios and 3 tablespoons sugar in processor. Transfer nut mixture to heavy medium saucepan; add milk and bring to boil. Whisk remaining 4 tablespoons sugar, yolks, and cornstarch in medium bowl to blend. Gradually whisk hot milk mixture into yolk mixture. Return mixture to same pan; whisk constantly over medium-high heat until mixture boils and thickens, about 1 minute. Remove from heat. Whisk butter into pastry cream, 1 piece at a time. Transfer pastry cream to bowl; press plastic wrap directly onto surface. Cover and chill at least 4 hours. Stir in cream. (Can be made 2 days ahead. Keep chilled.)

Agnes, my sous chef, teaches us how to make custard. Tip: I substituted pistachio for almond. It says stir for a minute so ONLY stir for a minute because it thickens quickly.

For poached pears:
Bring wine, sugar, orange peel, and lemon peel to boil in heavy large saucepan, stirring until sugar dissolves. Add pears; bring to simmer. Cut parchment paper round to fit pan; press paper atop pears. Partially cover pan; reduce heat to medium-low and simmer gently until pears are tender, turning occasionally, about 30 minutes. Transfer pears and poaching liquid to medium bowl. Cool to room temperature. (Pears can be prepared 2 days ahead. Cover and refrigerate.) 

** Buy the pears a few days in advance. If they aren’t ripe (yellow) the night prior to poaching, place the pears in a paper bag, roll it up and put it in a warm, dark place. This will speed up the process of riping. Yes, you get to play a pseudo god and no, that does not mean you can conquer the world.

Merlot & Bartlett Pears: I let them sit for three days to get fully red, occasionally turning them to achieve an even hue.

Poached Pears

When Life Tosses You a Lemon, You Make Glazed Lemon Pound Cake with Candied Lemons

New home, new kitchen.
I’ve been officially living in Hong Kong for about three weeks now. Up until last week it has felt a little disconcerting without any bearings of a foreign kitchen. Although my previous home of three years in Manhattan was a cave, I could move fluidly within the kitchen because I had all that I needed and I knew where all my baking supplies were.

Familiarity is a great ally when it comes to baking.
It’s a comfort to know that even in loneliness, that I could still create something. There’s something very comforting about whipping butter and sugar together: you can expect it to start to create mounds of fluff.  Despite all the unknowns in my life, there’s still a little cocoa, sugar, egg and vanilla that remains somewhat constant.

Without further ado, I decided to test out my new kitchen by baking Lemon Pound Cake that my host requested. There were a few setbacks due to my unfamiliarity with Hong Kong kitchens but all in all this counts as one of my rather successful conquests in Asia thus far. I’ve been really getting into lemony flavours thanks to having tasted Japanese Yuzu in Kyoto.

The recipe I used calls for lemon verbena, which I didn’t have, so I substituted it with more zest. I decided to try out the glaze they suggested but wanted to make it prettier by teaching myself how to candy lemon slices… which turned out to take a lot longer than I expected and came out more of  a garnish than something candy-edible. Ah well, it was a try. The cake itself was slightly more moist than what I wanted it to be but all in all, it wasn’t a bad first test in the kitchen! Lemons work well with sugar: sour and sweet are a good combo.

I didn’t account for the time you need to candy lemons: douse them cold water, boil, repeat (x5) and on the last time you add sugar and simmer for 30-40 minutes. They’ll go from opaque to translucent when they begin to soften. I was baking till 1:15am and I had work the next morning. lol

Yeah but the bad thing about baking in Hong Kong are the prices for Western supplies. I used to take for granted the Whole Foods, Food Emporium and Trader Joes (not to mention the delis) that were three blocks away. Now the same butter that was sold at $4USD goes for $102 HKD. I’m going to cry.

Anyway, here’s the recipe I got from Epicurious:
Lemon Pound Cake with Candied Lemons

-Sam