Back To Fall: Frangipane Tart With Bourbon Brown Sugar Peaches

pastry tart with peaches on a wooden cutting board
Peach and almond delicious.

August might just be the very best month of the summer.

I realize this is a blasphemous statement to place at the very top of September’s post, but bear with me.

There is a tart at the end of all of this.

For the second year in a row, Khristian and I have headed to Canada to spend a few weeks in the lovely province of New Brunswick, camping on a piece of raw land we purchased last year and gazing out at the creeping fog of the Bay of Fundy.

The Bay of Fundy is out there. Somewhere.

While this blog post was initially going to be titled, “How to build a camping platform without murdilating your partner,” I have mellowed somewhat, basted as I have been over the past two weeks in salt air and the chittering of squirrels.

No one was harmed in the making of this deck.

Coming home, and walking to the farmer’s market this morning, I realized that August is the best month of summer.

First, yes, it’s usually hotter than hell, but most people have their summer gear dialed in at this point and are capable of finding water or keeping cool. Many people head to the beach at this time (perfect time to avoid it, IMVHO), or just find some friends and a piece of shade to hang out in.

In short, by August, we are all used to the hellish weather and a little more relaxed about it. Sure, there’s still chatter on the topic but it’s less offended and more accepting, a sort of late summer resignation.

Next, by the time August rolls around, the frenetic new energy of the summer is chilled out. In June and July, everyone tries to do allofthethings, feels, in fact, COMPELLED to do them, but by August, much like that wild patch of overgrown, spindly, weighted down trio of tomato plants on your balcony and the overabundance of zucchini packed in ziploc baggies in your freezer, we have all given up. Sure, we still do someofthethings, but mostly it’s at a more leisurely pace. We are in our groove. Laid back.

It’s like we finally realize how long the days actually are in summer and just stop rushing around.

This more relaxed vibe is what all the commercials are actually talking about in April, looking towards summer. We just don’t get there until August. Add two eclipses and Mercury in retrograde during the entire month of July, and that’s some frantic shit right there. August is one big, fat exhale.

And then as August winds down? SCHOOL SUPPLIES.

Not back-to-school shopping, which sucks at any age, but school supplies. Fresh notebooks; new, full-to-the-brim ink pens; post-its; planners; and, if you’re lucky, a brand-new Trapper Keeper.

In college, the promise and possibility (and unfortunate expense) of new textbooks. I am probably the only person in history who didn’t mind the expense, but then again, I believe you can never spend too much on books.

August is the best. It leads into the productive energy of the fall in preparation for the hibernation of winter. This gentle seasonal slope makes me more motivated and often more creative – I do some of my best work in August and September. It’s like a reset.

I come back to the kitchen more energized, usually, and am baking with a ferocity that usually evaporates in mid-summer’s heat. Right now I am smelling the beginning notes of Frank’s Holy Bundt, unsurprisingly posted first on this blog on September 1st two years ago.

This time of the year the farmer’s markets are overflowing with abundance as well. Everything summer comes to a peak right now, perfect timing for canning, preserving, and otherwise storing away the easy bounty of summer against winter’s leaner feel.

Today I walked through Hampden in the sparkling sunshine, stopped at a neighborhood pear tree to see how things were going, and came away from the market with peaches, green beans, and a zucchini the size of my femur bone (put half in the current Holy Bundt and am freezing the other half for the next one).

The peaches. Man.

Everyone talks about South Carolina or Georgia peaches, but Maryland peaches kick their ass in a peach fistfight. They have more flavor and silkier flesh than their southern cousins, and the farm I bought from today is 30 miles from my back porch.

I ate one on the way home, and saved the others for this, my frangipane tart. Frangipane seems like a really complicated thing, mostly because its correct pronunciation eludes me, but that’s about it. It has a delicate almond flavor but still holds up like a more rustic dessert. The first time I made it with an apple butter caramel swirl on top I couldn’t cram it into my gaping maw fast enough. It wasn’t too sweet and had a tender, light crumb.

This time, some peaches and some bourbon and some lemon and some peach marmalade from Italy brighten the whole thing up.

You could also swap plums for the peaches and switch the bourbon to rum. Or use tart apples tossed in brown sugar, a squeeze of lemon, and some cinnamon. I’d like to try a banoffee version (bananas and toffee caramel), but that might be for the holidays.

Enjoy the last few days of summer.

Frangipane Tart With Bourbon Brown Sugar Peaches

Ingredients

Crust

½ cup whole toasted almonds

1 ¼ cups gluten-free all-purpose flour

¼ cup sugar

¼ teaspoon salt

1 stick chilled butter, cut into pieces

2 tablespoons ice water

Filling

1 ¼ cup whole almonds

¼  cup brown sugar, packed

6 tablespoons butter, at room temperature OR melted and cooled

1 large egg

1 egg white

1 capful vanilla extract (see Recipe Notes)

1 teaspoon bourbon

2 teaspoons lemon zest

2 big peaches (between a tennis ball and a softball size)

Glaze

¼ cup peach preserves

3 tablespoons bourbon

2 tablespoons brown sugar

½ teaspoon lemon juice

Method

Preheat oven to 375°.

Start with your crust. Pulse almonds in food processor until they are finely chopped. Add flour, sugar, and salt and process until almonds are ground into meal.

Pulse butter in until mixture resembles sand. Mix in enough water to form moist clumps. Once this happens, turn the dough directly into your tart pan and press into shape (see Recipe Notes for what to do if you use regular flour). Use a piece of plastic wrap to keep your hands clean and press dough evenly into the sides and bottom of the tart pan. The goal is an equal thickness all around, about 1/8”.

Cover tart pan and refrigerate at least two hours or overnight.

When you are ready to bake, place tart pan on baking sheet and poke several times with a fork. You can place a piece of parchment on top of the crust and fill the crust with blind baking beads or rice, which will prevent the edges of the tart from shrinking and which I usually forget to do.

Bake crust 10 minutes, popping any additional bubbles that arise with a toothpick if you have not filled your crust with the baking beads or rice. If you are using parchment, remove the parchment after 15 minutes to allow the bottom to cook.  Crust may take up to 20 minutes to become a pale golden color – be patient.

Cool tart while you make the filling.

Blend almonds in food processor until they break into smaller pieces. Add remaining sugar butter, eggs, extracts, bourbon, and lemon zest and continue to pulse until almonds are finely ground and ingredients are well mixed. Spread the filling in your crust.

Wash and slice the peaches into ½” slices (ish. No need to be precious. This is a rustic tart). Place peaches in a spiral pattern (or any pattern, really) into the top of the tart, pressing gently to make sure they stick into the filling. The filling should come up the sides of the peaches a little.

Bake tart on baking sheet until frangipane is puffed and golden, between 30 and 45 minutes.

While the tart bakes, prepare the glaze. Stir brown sugar, bourbon, and lemon juice in a small saucepan over medium heat until mixture just boils and sugar is completely dissolved (this happens quickly). Strain glaze into a bowl.

Transfer the tart to a cooling rack and brush the entire surface with the glaze.

When completely cool, release the tart from the pan and serve to much adoration. A little unsweetened whip cream (or with just a tiny splash of almond extract) is delicious on this. If you’re especially fancy, garnish with chopped fresh lemon balm.

Recipe Notes

  • I used McKenna bourbon in this recipe, a seriously underrated, easy drinking and mixing bourbon. It is young and cheap and thus smooth and sweeter, with notes of caramel and vanilla. It goes well with the flavors of this tart and costs less than $15 a bottle. Go get some.
  • If you use regular flour, do not place the crust directly in the pan; follow the typical crust recipe, which is to bring the dough together by turning it out of the food processor after you incorporate the water and kneading gently before forming it into a ball, wrapping it in plastic and chilling it at least two hours. Then, roll the dough out on a floured surface before placing into your tart pan and baking.
  • Prepare the crust a day ahead, chilling overnight in the ‘fridge and then baking the next day.
  • Tart can sit at room temperature for eight hours before serving, but you should plan to eat it on day one. The crust softens in the ‘fridge overnight, so you don’t get that snap the next day. Still delicious for breakfast.

Fondant Fancies, Or How To Get Back On The Horse

This recipe inspired by the Great Canadian Baking Show.

I just watched The. Dumbest. Movie. about unicorns on Netflix.

Call it boredom. Call it curiosity. Call it straight-up avoidance, but I clicked “play” and watched the whole thing. There goes 90 minutes of my life I will never get back.

Part of my clicking “play” on a really stupid movie is me floundering about a little, trying to figure out whatthefuck is next. After a month off of social media and with a few important deadlines looming, deadlines that have nothing to do with mercenary writing and everything to do with my own personal creative practice, my brain and body just don’t really know which end is up. It’s like riding a horse backwards, a little. Possible, but ill-advised.

Adding to the mental fog, this week has been a wild ride in other important ways.

Started off by putting my stressed out kid on a plane to Paris for a month.

Then I picked up my dog’s ashes and pawprint, which sent me back into grief, not just for the loss of the dog but also for every bit of loss from the past decade and a half – a long series of just having something or someone I love ripped away on a regular basis. In no particular order: A baby. A houseful of belongings. A parent. A house. A school. A husband. A horse. More belongings. A dog.

It’s a lot to deal with on a random Tuesday.

So I baked some things. It doesn’t really matter why or how, but a month ago I committed to donating four dozen sweet things to a writing conference my friend organized for Baltimore City College, and the due date for those sweet things was this week.

Two of the four dozen were Fondant Fancies, fiddly little things that required several hours of baking and fussing over. In conjunction with the other two dozen sweet things (individual Chocolate Covered Cherry Cream Pies), this baking occupied enough time and mental space to get me to the end of the Tuesday of Loss Remembrance.

And then after I delivered them on Wednesday morning, I took the remaining dog for a five-mile walk. As we got back to the car, sweaty and thirsty, I felt an overwhelming sweep of gratitude, even among all of the Lost Things, that I could bake all day for a friend, and then go out on the first truly beautiful spring day and walk through the woods with my dog. It’s a privilege and a blessing that I do not take for granted.

If you are feeling the need for making something special or avoiding something or just want to distract yourself with something other than a really, really dumb movie, give these a try. I didn’t find them too technically challenging – just time and patience-intensive.

p.s. If you want the recipe for Chocolate Covered Cherry Cream Pies, comment below the recipe.

p.p.s. Oh, and hey, if you like what you read, think about subscribing to this blog. You get one email when I post – that’s it. No ads, nothing more.

Fondant Fancies(makes 25 pieces)

Ingredients

Cake

2 sticks very soft butter

225 grams sugar (about 1 cup)

4 room-temperature eggs

225 grams gluten-free all-purpose flour (about 1 1/2 cups)

2 teaspoons baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

grated rind of one lemon

Buttercream and topping

1 stick very soft butter

3/4 cup powdered sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 jar seedless jam (your choice, but I used raspberry and you won’t use it all in this recipe, so get something you like)

1 tube marzipan paste (see Recipe Notes)

Powdered sugar for rolling

Two bags Wilton candy melts (see Recipe Notes)

1/2 cup coconut oil

Dark chocolate, chopped (optional, for decoration)

Equipment: parchment paper, 8″ square cake pan, cooling rack, rolling pin, ruler, two rimmed cookie sheets, piping bag, squeeze bottle.

Method

For the cake: Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Butter an 8″ square cake pan and line with parchment paper, then butter the paper, too. Set aside.

Place butter and sugar in a stand mixer and cream with a paddle (this paddle is the best – not a sponsored post!) until light and fluffy. Add eggs one at a time, mixing to combine thoroughly after each egg.

Combine flour, baking powder, salt, and grated lemon rind in a bowl and mix to combine. Add to butter mixture and mix to combine, scraping down the side of the bowl. Batter will be pretty thick – this is ok.

Tip batter into prepared tin and level the surface with an offset spatula.

Bake for 30-40 minutes or until the top is light brown and springy and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Do not open the oven while it’s baking or it will sink in the middle.

Cool in the pan for ten minutes and then cool completely on a rack. You can make the buttercream while you wait.

For the buttercream: Add softened butter, powdered sugar, and vanilla extract to the clean bowl of your stand mixer. Use the whip attachment to beat until light and fluffy. You want frosting that is completely smooth and easy to spread. If it seems stiff, add some milk, just a teaspoon at a time, and whip thoroughly in between additions.

When the cake is completely cool, cut it into two horizontal layers. Spread a thin layer of raspberry jam evenly on the bottom layer, then place the top layer back.

Spread an even layer of buttercream on the top of the cake only and place in the ‘fridge.

Note: You will have leftover buttercream. Place it between graham crackers. Eat all the time.

Dust the clean counter liberally with powdered sugar and roll your marzipan paste to an 8″ square that is 1 /16″ thick (or thereabouts).

Place the marzipan on top of the buttercream and press down very lightly, then chill for another ten to 15 minutes. Have a coffee. Check your email.

Once chilled, remove the cake and, using a ruler, cut squares that are 1 1/2″ by 1 1/2″. Try to keep your cuts straight and neat, and remove any stray crumbs to keep the sides clean.

Set on a cooling rack over a rimmed cookie sheet (like a jellyroll pan). Place in ‘fridge while you prepare the candy melts.

Melt the candy melts in and coconut oil in a saucepan (or in the microwave if you have one – I do not), then transfer to a squeeze bottle with a wide opening (I cut mine wider).

Remove the cakes from the ‘fridge, and carefully coat each square with candy melt mixture. Periodically transfer the cakes to another pan and scrape the candy melt mixture that has dribbled off into the pan under the cakes and put it back in the squeeze bottle (use a funnel).

Make sure each square is fully coated.

If you’d like, allow the candy melt mixture to set (not in the ‘fridge – on the counter is fine) before melting some dark chocolate, placing it in a piping bag with a tiny opening, and drizzling all fancy-like over the squares.

Pro-tip: You can make this cake over several days, and finished squares are delicious for about a week (although the cake is not as springy).

Recipe Notes

Marzipan paste can be homemade, but I wanted to control some of the variables and so used pre-made paste. It can be found in the baking aisle. I have made my own in the past, and it’s worth the effort if the marzipan is the star.

Technically, fondant fancies use something called pâte à glacer as a coating. This is very, very similar to Wilton candy melts, and candy melts are widely available and much, much cheaper. I used vibrant green candy melts, but I also experimented with Mary Berry’s suggestion to use powdered sugar thinned with milk and tinted with food coloring. MISTAKE. Thin, too sweet, and flavorless. The coconut oil added to the candy melts makes the glaze more supple and adds a delicious flavor that complements the lemon, raspberry, and vanilla. If you want a neutral flavor (no coconut) you could use vegetable oil instead of coconut.

31 Day Social Media Fast: Day 27

In which I skip out on Instagram and Facebook for the month of March but still allow myself the internet.

So it’s Wednesday now, and I have been back in the States since Monday, and I am still exhausted. I have a lingering cough from Canada, and it’s one of those that seems to make getting a full breath hard.

And on the flip side, my entire body seems to be seizing up. I taught small children yoga yesterday and nearly ripped my hamstring in the very simplest of forward folds.

Ah, this mortal coil.

Full disclosure: I spent a fair amount of time (about 15 minutes) on Instagram this morning, lured in by mirror glaze and ultimately repelled by ASMR videos of people eating crunchy things (which makes me want to kill myself).

I don’t miss Facebook at all, but Instagram has been harder. With four days left, I don’t know if I will stay off Instagram after this is done, but I am pretty sure Facebook is dead to me.

Also, side note, since this is, for most intents and purposes actually a food blog, I spent the good part of yesterday making fondant fancies, and, as the Brits would say, I’m fairly chuffed about the taste. I am baking for a teacher friend who is having a writing conference at her school, two kinds of fussy gluten-free treats, and this is one of them.

Still trying to live up to the “fancy” part of the name – right now they look like lumpy green rocks (which is the reason there is not a picture above).

I am feeling low today, for a variety of reasons that don’t need discussing right now. I think if I can feel better and maybe move a little my mood will lift, but right now I just want to lay down for a couple of days. My acupuncturist would remind me that transitions between seasons can be very challenging, especially for us windy vata folk, and I am living into that for real. Travel and crossing back and forth time zones, even just one, compounds the stress.

So I will try to be kind to myself and sit in the sunshine and move slowly like the tiny buds peeking through the warming soil. We will see what happens.

31 Day Social Media Fast: Day 5

In which I skip out on Instagram and Facebook for the month of March but still allow myself the internet.

Good morning. Indeed.

Yeah, I made gluten-free Pop-tarts today.

Two fillings – blackberry and chocolate – largely due to poor filling planning and my belief that they probably wouldn’t work so why bother making/procuring something special. #ohmeoflittlefaith

I used this recipe for gluten-free Pop-tarts, only with my gluten-free flour blend, and I frosted both flavors with a simple icing made with milk, powdered sugar, and vanilla bean paste. I also made them 3″ x 4″, because who eats a Pop-tart that is 2″ wide? #noone

I won’t say they were perfect, but they were pretty freaking delicious. Next time I will maybe chill the dough, but it’s not strictly necessary.

I missed Pop-tarts.

Had We But World Enough And Time: Profiteroles

The wild profiterole, captured in its natural habitat.

First, for you, a poem about love. Sort of. If you are not a lover of poetry, feel free to skip to the erudite synopsis – the TL:DR, if you will – below:

To His Coy Mistress

Had we but world enough and time,
This coyness, lady, were no crime.
We would sit down, and think which way
To walk, and pass our long love’s day.
Thou by the Indian Ganges’ side
Shouldst rubies find; I by the tide
Of Humber would complain. I would
Love you ten years before the flood,
And you should, if you please, refuse
Till the conversion of the Jews.
My vegetable love should grow
Vaster than empires and more slow;
An hundred years should go to praise
Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze;
Two hundred to adore each breast,
But thirty thousand to the rest;
An age at least to every part,
And the last age should show your heart.
For, lady, you deserve this state,
Nor would I love at lower rate.
But at my back I always hear
Time’s wingèd chariot hurrying near;
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
Thy beauty shall no more be found;
Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound
My echoing song; then worms shall try
That long-preserved virginity,
And your quaint honour turn to dust,
And into ashes all my lust;
The grave’s a fine and private place,
But none, I think, do there embrace.
Now therefore, while the youthful hue
Sits on thy skin like morning dew,
And while thy willing soul transpires
At every pore with instant fires,
Now let us sport us while we may,
And now, like amorous birds of prey,
Rather at once our time devour
Than languish in his slow-chapped power.
Let us roll all our strength and all
Our sweetness up into one ball,
And tear our pleasures with rough strife
Through the iron gates of life:
Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run.

~Andrew Marvell~

Essentially, Andrew Marvell is trying to convince his mistress to get freaky, and quick, before worms begin to eat them in the grave.

What this is really about is time (well, and if we are being honest, which we should always try to be, also sex), and how little we have in comparison to how much we tell ourselves we have (time and sex, both).

This winter break I wanted lots and lots of time. I wanted to have weeks of time to do as much or as little as I wanted, with no stress of deadlines. It may seem that as a freelance writer I have all of the time in the world, but in truth my days fly by in a haze of writing and basic life management. Most days I raise myself from a shitty night’s sleep and deliver The Child to school, and then, even with the day stretching out long before me, writing, house maintenance, family maintenance, yoga teaching/class planning, and yoga studio assistant managing fill up those minutes I thought I had plenty of when I first woke.

It astonishes me how I used to do all of the things I do these days with the added pressure of running a school and managing livestock. I cannot remember how it is that I got things done.

And that’s the haze aspect. I didn’t really spend too much time thinking about or noticing things that were happening. It’s the same as if your head is on fire – you don’t note the color of the flames, you just put the fire out. So many parts of my life have rushed by in a blur that I never fully experienced.

But the only way to really dive deep is to make time to do so. There are multiple studies on how we can’t actually “multi-task,” and that entering deeply into something is the only way to truly know that thing. If you quickly Google “how to learn something” you get 622 million results. The first few pages talk about learning something new every day and then quickly devolve into ways to learn new things in five minutes, or ten. It’s all about learning/doing the thing and less about experiencing the thing.

It’s hard to jump off the Must Get Things Done Treadmill.

But jump off I must. Not for any reason other than I want to continue to try to be present for everything. Possibly not things like cleaning the cat box or doing my taxes, but maybe even those things, too.

For months now I have wanted to give real pastry a try. I have been craving cream puffs and eclairs and cheese danish with an immeasurable ferocity for months now. The only reason I am not 1,000 pounds is because I am unwilling to pay eight bucks a pastry for substandard gluten-free bullshit. I may splurge for a $4 gluten-free cupcake on occasion, but I always regret it (I make them waaaaay tastier).

But real delicate pastry takes time and attention, both of which have been hard to come by in these past months.

Not anymore.

Here are profiteroles. Pâte à choux pastry, light and puffy, filled with sweet vanilla cream and striped with chocolate.

Authentic and delicious. Gluten-free (although you can make them with regular AP flour).

They take some time. I have modified the process a bit for less hands-on time, but still. You can’t just pop these in the oven and walk away.

Profiteroles

This recipe bows in gratitude to Michael Ruhlman and Ratio, but changes are made to accommodate the peculiar properties of gluten-free flour. 

Ingredients 

Pastry Creme (Creme Patisserie, or Creme Pat as they say on The Great British Baking Show)

1/4 cup all-purpose gluten-free flour (or just cornstarch)

4 room-temperature egg yolks

2 cups whole milk

1/2 cup sugar

1/4 teaspoon salt

1 vanilla bean, scraped (or 1 teaspoon vanilla extract)

Pâte à Choux

1 cup water

7 tablespoons butter

1/4 teaspoon salt

1 cup gluten-free all-purpose flour

3 room-temperature eggs, beaten

Optional drizzle

1/2 cup chocolate, chopped (I used bittersweet chips because it’s what I had)

1/4 cup heavy cream

Method

Make the pastry creme first. In a large bowl, mix together flour and egg yolks until thoroughly incorporated and smooth. Set aside.

Heat milk, sugar, and salt to a simmer in a heavy saucepan over medium heat (look for small bubbles to appear around the edges of the pan). Remove from heat and grab a whisk.

Whisking constantly, slowly drizzle the hot milk mixture into the egg mixture. WHISK CONSTANTLY. Don’t skimp, and don’t add the hot milk too fast. If you do, you will end up with sweet scrambled egg which is gross and nobody wants that.

Once the milk is completely added, pour the mixture back into the milk pan and cook over low heat, whisking constantly, until the mixture begins to thicken (about five to ten minutes).

Pro-tip: use a whisk. I tried a spatula and that did not end well.

Remove from heat and add scraped vanilla bean (or extract). Place a fine mesh strainer over the bowl you will cool the pastry creme in. Pour pastry creme into the strainer to remove errant lumps (of egg or flour). Place plastic wrap directly on the surface of the creme and place in the ‘fridge to cool thoroughly while you make the pâte à choux.

To make your pastry, preheat oven to 425 degrees and line two baking sheets with parchment pastry. Set aside. Set up a stand mixer with a paddle attachment (or see Recipe Notes).

Heat water, butter, and salt in a high-sided saucepan over medium heat until butter is completely melted.

Add flour to water/butter mixture and stir with a wooden spoon, still over heat, until mixture pulls away from the sides of the pan and forms a ball. You will also notice a thin skim of pastry on the bottom of the pot.

Move pastry to the bowl of the stand mixer and let cool slightly. You want to be able to touch it, but you don’t want it cold.

Turn on stand mixer and begin to add beaten egg a little at a time. Smart people beat each egg separately and add them one at a time. You may not actually use all of the egg, which can be scary.

Don’t be scared.

Add a bit of beaten egg at a time and beat until it is incorporated. Ultimately you are looking for a dough that is somewhat stiff but still able to be piped. This is somewhere between cookie dough and a thick batter. It should not ooze at all or be sloshy. I know this to be true because that’s what my first attempts were like, and I ended up with egg-tasting pancakes. #Barf

The reason you may not use all of the eggs is because of the level of humidity in the air, the temperature of the flour/water/butter mix, alignment of the planets, the difficulty of the French: any number of reasons. It’s best to concentrate on the texture you are aiming for rather than the amount of each ingredient.

This is why people have dogs: to eat their extra eggs.

So beat your eggs as needed into the flour. When done, you can refrigerate your pastry dough for a day, or you can proceed.

Place dough into a pastry bag (see Recipe Notes) fitted with a round nozzle; I used a size 11, but you can eyeball it and go for 3/4 to 1″. Pipe 1″ rounds of dough onto parchment one inch away from each other. Each dough ball should have a little peak on top (if not, your dough is too runny. Sorry.).

Use a wet fingertip to smooth the top of each dough ball.

Place in oven at 425 for ten minutes, then reduce heat to 350 and cook for another 20 minutes.

Remove from oven and pierce sides with a toothpick to allow excess moisture to escape. Place back in turned-off oven and let them dry out for another 10 minutes.

Let cool completely.

Filling options:

  1. Pipe cooled pastry cream with a skinny nozzle through the hole you made with the toothpick
  2. Slice in half and use a spoon to dollop cream between both halves

For the optional drizzle, melt chocolate and cream over low heat, stirring constantly. If you are fancy as fuck, place that into a squeeze bottle and with a practiced air move it back and forth over your filled profiteroles until you achieve the chocolate coverage you desire.

If you have leftover drizzle, add some heavy cream, shake well, and pour over ice cream. Or add to milk and heat for hot chocolate.

Recipe Notes

  • You don’t need a stand mixer to make these, just lots of muscle. You can add your eggs and beat with a wooden spoon until you achieve the desired consistency. You can also use a food processor.
  • You also don’t need a pastry bag. Use a sealed freezer bag with the end snipped off and the pastry tip nestled into the snipped-off corner for the exact same result.

If you have read all the way through, finish this sentence in the comments: Had I but world enough and time, I would…”