And So To Bed

I don't know what has descended upon our household, but whatever it is, I don't like it one bit. Tim and I both have the all over body ache that just won't quit, leaving us devoid of hunger and completely depleted of the energy required to entertain and play with our extremely energetic son, Leo. Major bummer. But not all is lost, because even though we aren't whipping up the usual savory soups like Tim's French Onion or my Grandma's Dill Chicken Noodle, we have been craving the ultimate medicine: hot chocolate. Not too sweet and not too hot, this always makes the weakest of hands reach forth and humbly ask from the side of the bed, "May I please have another cup?" Plus, chocolate is loaded with antioxidants and when it first came onto the scene in Europe, you could only purchase it from the pharmacy.

I simply love this take on hot chocolate because it is so simple. And even when you are feeling poorly, you don't mind making it because you know that it will be that satisfying when it's all said and done. The real magic to this recipe, though, is the way in which you make it.

HOT CHOCOLATE SUPREME WITH FRANGELICA CHANTILLY CREAM

2 Cups + 4 Tablespoons Whole Milk
4 Tablespoons Unsweetened Dutch Cocoa Powder
1/3 Cup Granulated Sugar

In a heavy bottomed sauce pan, combine the cocoa powder and the sugar, stirring until well combined. Whisk in the 4 tablespoons of milk and continue whisking until you have a smooth paste. Turn the heat on low and continue to whisk the paste until the sugar is dissolved. Stir in the remaining milk and stir with a wooden spoon until well incorporated. Heat just until the milk begins bulge ever so slightly and a lace-like frothy ring forms just around the edges. The hot chocolate should have a deep, velvety brown color...it really is luscious to behold and the aroma makes the edges of your mouth curl up into an anticipatory grin.

Depending on how you take your cocoa, you can serve it with fresh Chantilly Cream (traditionally, Chantilly Cream is heavy cream that has been slightly sweetened with sugar and vanilla and even liquors.) or marshmallows. Here's a delicious take on Chantilly Cream that goes very well with the cocoa:


CHANTILLY CREAM

1/2 Cup Heavy Cream
1 Teaspoon Sugar
1/4 Teaspoon Mexican Vanilla
1 Teaspoon Frangelica Liquor

Begin whipping the cream until it barely begins to hold its' shape. Add the sugar, vanilla and the Frangelica liquor and continue to whip until the cream is the consistency you desire. I prefer a softer cream for when serving with hot chocolate so as to avoid the buttery coating that has a tendency to line the entirety of your mouth when the cream is whipped too firmly.

Dollop two heaping spoonfuls of the the Chantilly Cream onto the warm coco and serve immediately.

Serves 4

About Me

I discovered that I had Celiac Disease almost six years ago and ever since, I have been struggling to create my favorite sweets. It's a strange phenomena, but I haven't missed bread all that much since my diagnosis. What I've missed above all other things in my dietary tableaux are desserts. Any kind of dessert, be it a custard, a tart, a chocolate confection, a cake or a cookie, I want it and I want it to make my eyes roll into the back of my head with pleasure because if I'm consuming those kinds of calories, it has to satisfy every last existing taste bud that is capable of a sensory response. And believe me, with these kinds of standards, I will deliver the goods. After all, if mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy, right?

Oh, wait how could I be so rude? I'm sorry, I totally forgot about all the usual salutations. My name is Karen Morgan and I live in Austin, Texas with my two and a half year old son, Leo and my husband, Timothy (Tim). I have no formal cooking training, but by "formal," what I mean to say is that I've never been to a proper cooking school, but I was born into cooking and I married a cook, so the way in which you choose to interpret this information is relative.

My mother cooked nearly every meal for me and my four brothers and sisters and I was always on the counter pouring measured amounts of this and that into bowls, wonderstruck that all these little powders and flours could produce something so incredibly delicious and that made everybody happy. My Italian grandmother was also a huge influence in our household. Whenever she was in town, the pasta machine was always at the ready and bowls of ravioli fillings occupied the bottom shelf of the refrigerator. In fact, my fondest memories from my choldhood are those in which I was either baking a cake with my mother or making pitzelles (a traditional, flat 'cookie' that is made in a heated waffle-like press and that is usually flavored with anise) or pasta with my grandma (nonna).

My husband is one of the lucky few to have attended La Varenne: Ecole de Cuisine in Paris, the now legendary cooking school that Anne Willan ran for over a decade, and it is from him that I have learned the bulk of my cooking knowledge. My family planted the seed and my husband (green thumb that he is) has nurtured my skills into a beautiful topiary of talent. But I have to say that my brother-in-law, Clayton, has also been a tremendously influential foodie. Not only is he an amazing chef himself, he also has one of the most discerning palattes I have ever encountered, so I knew that when he and Tim said something was good, I knew I had something.

Then, last summer (2006), a couple of friends of ours David and Cindy, who have a Chateau in the Jura region of France in a small town called Nans Sous Ste. Anne, asked us if we'd like to come and cook for their bed and breakfast (www.frenchcountryretreat.com)French Country Retreat. We immediately jumped at the opportunity. Tim was the Chef de Cuisine and I was the Patisserie and we stayed there for three months working our tail feathers off. The results were stupendous. We received three standing ovations and Tim was given a Laguiole carving knife as a gift and I received numerous requests for more, more and more as well as an antique cobalt blue truffle/candy jar with a pewter finial on the lid. I served homemade chocolate truffles every night with their coffee, and in France, the coffee is traditionally served after the dessert.

It was just the kind of reception we both needed and it stimulated the first thought for me, that maybe, just maybe, if I could make high-end gluten-free desserts for a very food conscious, European clientele, then maybe, just maybe, my American compatriots might receive me just as warmly.

Nascent

This is the first time I've ever created a blog, so I'm a little slow going as of now, but once the wheels get greased, I'll have plenty of wonders to share with you.