The First Review!

Here's the first review for Confections of a Closet Master Baker from Publisher's Weekly!  You can see it on their site here.

Confections of a Closet Master Baker: A Memoir 

In this terrifically lively account chockfull of elegant, Old World recipes, Bullock-Prado, a former Hollywood film developer and sister to actress Sandra Bullock, recounts the joys and heartbreaks of running her own patisserie in Montpelier, Vt. Having fled the “soul-sucking” routine in Los Angeles with her husband, Ray, for the simpler pleasures of a small town near the Green Mountains, the author opened her own bake shop, Gesine Confectionary, in 2004, mostly on the fame of the macaroons she refashioned from her German mother's favorite almond treat, mandelhoernchen (and the casual mention in an interview her sister did for In Style). Although a law school graduate, Bullock-Prado always relished “playing with sugar, butter, and flour” and concocts an affectionate homage to her mother, who recently died from colon cancer, and grandmother. Her memoir follows one day in a busy baker's life, from waking at three a.m. to prepare the batter (croissants, scones, sticky buns) and bake before opening shop at seven; through the hectic lunch (focaccia); and the three p.m. tea time. In subtly compelling prose, the master baker conveys her touching sense of responsibility for the “emotional needs of [her] patrons,” and offers mouthwatering recipes. (Sept.)

DEATH MATCH: Rural Colonial Charm VS Commercial Baking Space

The baking space, she's been found!  But these are just the early stages. We’ve made an offer on a lovely house with a mixed use pedigree, i.e. it’s zoned for residential and commercial use. It took a while for said offer to be accepted but now we’re at that stage where we await closing and I move forward with all due diligence.

The first step I always take in preparing a baking site is to call in the Vermont Health Department. There’s a check list burned into my brain:

(1) 3 bay sink
(2) hand wash sink
(3) smooth, cleanable surfaces
(4) vinyl “molding” along the floors for easy cleaning
(5) mop sink
(6) self shutting doors
(7) proper ventilation

Yet knowing these few things isn’t enough. Because while I think I’ve found a space that’s going to work as-is with a few additions from my checklist, I always discover an unheralded money pit. Take for instance those lovely hand-hewn, circa 17th century wood beams. I was quite taken with them myself. I thought they’d add a sense of timelessness to my early morning bakes. But rough-hewn is a big no-no in the world of sanitation. Remember my check list? SMOOTH, cleanable surface. That rustic charm overload is due to the very discernable hatchet marks gracing the wood’s surface. Ancient divets that collect grime and are immune to a modern sponge’s ministrations. Damn you, old house! Your provincial voodoo seduced me!

("hmmmm, where to place that 3-bay sink?")

But baking’s the thing; I musn’t be sidetracked and hypnotized by the heady magnetism of colonial hardscapes. Thankfully, the kind inspector respected the allure of the place and came up with a few solutions that would preserve the building’s charms and provide those smooth, cleanable surfaces.

So if you’ve got it in your head to start a food business and you’ve got a little architectural gem in mind for your venture, call your local health department post haste! 

Next deathmatch: 3-bay sink VS. original wide plank wood floors!  Who wins?

Celebrate Independence with the Best Pie Crust Ever! Quick!

It's the 4th of July.

And I’m not going to let you spend another minute trolling the internet for pie crust recipes.  Stop this instant; I command you.   There's not much time left.

So step away from your Google search engine, that’s right.  Sloooooowly.   Don’t you dare type in another query:  “best pie recipe” “flaky pie dough” “why does my pie crust taste like year old play dough?” Consider your search over.

Now get your ass to the only joint that's open at the moment, your local convenience store, and buy lots of unsalted butter and some nice all-purpose flour.

You probably already have salt and  if your plumbing is up to snuff, you’ve got water.  That’s all you need.  

Quick Puff:  The only pie dough you'll ever need

2 pounds of all-purpose flour (approximately 7 1/2 cups)

2 pounds cold unsalted butter (8 sticks) cut into small pieces

1 1/4 cups cold water

1/2 teaspoon salt

In a large bowl, combine flour, salt and butter.  Massage the butter into the flour until the butter pieces are a bit smaller.  Add the water and smoosh around, coating the flour/butter with water.  Kneading until the whole mess looks like is's holding together just a little.  Dump the dough out and form into a loose square.  This is what it'll look like.  It's not pretty.  But just be patient.  It gets so much better.

Let this rest for 10 minutes and then roll out gently, sprinkling flour on your work surface and your rolling pin to keep everything from sticking and roll the dough into a rectangle.  Make 4 single turns.  That means fold the dough over into a "letter" fold.  This is a holy mess until you get to the last turn. 

Don't worry.  Bits are going to plop off willy nilly.  Just be patient.  Shove the errant dough chunks back into the whole and persevere!  This is the start of a letter fold:

Fold one end towards the middle and then fold the second end over the first.  The package will look like this after the first complete turn:

And this is what your dough is going to look like after the last and fourth turn:

Roll out your dough as you would for any pie.  Personally, I like my pies double crusted or latticed.  Which means I blind bake the bottom crust first.  I roll it out, dock the dough (prick it all around with a fork), line the top of the dough with parchment and then let it rest in the fridge for 10 minutes and then again rested in the freezer for 20 minutes.  

Place pie weights or dry beans on top of the parchment to weigh it down, you don't want the dough to puff up while baking.  Bake at 375 for about 30 minutes or just until the dough loses it's raw appearance but don't let it brown.  Fill with fruity goodness, top with lattice or another round of pie dough and bake until the fruit filling starts to bubble and your top crust is golden brown.  Enjoy your Independence Day having found freedom from your endless search for the best pie crust.  You just found it.  

You're welcome.

Her Royal Highness, the Kouign

It was recently brought to my attention that there was a lively debate brewing in a forum on IMDB, the Internet Movie Data Base, regarding my sister. No surprise there, really. Unusual was the topic being fervently discussed and the fact that I was used as a piece of evidence in a particular person’s line of argument.

The topic? “Is she white…” The evidence proffered to prove that she wasn’t? The following statement along with a handy link to a picture of me:

“For years I've said she seems to have a little color, or is at least Jewish. I know her bios say she's German. But she is dark. And finally I saw a picture of her sister (that would be me), and she's definitely not white.”

The first reaction was to wax Vonnegut, “who gives a flying f*ck through a rolling donut?” Someone has spent years contemplating this topic? Is Goebbels still alive and no one warned us? A woman of German ancestry…not blonde???? Say it isn’t so!

Oh, come to think of it I can come up with a ridiculously mustached and very iconic example of a non-blonde German to put this argument to rest post haste but really I think I’d be doing myself more of a disservice by mentioning the little shit at all.

But all this is silliness because everyone knows that there’s no such thing as truly German or French or English. We humans get around, biologically speaking. When my zygotes where getting down to brass tacks in utero, I’m betting there was a vast selection of traits, spanning ancestors who came from every corner of our known universe, from which to choose. And there’s a very good chance that some of the choice bits of genetic material that would make up my physical biological identity were not “white.” I’m not a bit sorry, however, that I cannot parse out what is and what isn’t for that curious novice dabbler in eugenics who posted his idiotic question on IMDB. Because again, to quote Vonnegut, "who gives a flying f*ck through a rolling donut?"

Which brings me to a region of France called Brittany and the pastry Kouign Amann (pronounced “queen ah-mahn”). Kouign? Amann? That’s not French! Exactly, it’s Breton but then, it’s a Celtic language spoken alongside French within the confines of France. So then what the hell is it? Is it French or is it Celtic? To which I say, who gives a flying…. Let’s just say it really doesn’t matter what it is, it’s simply a damn fine pastry.

Like some of the best things in the world, Kouign Amann is a synthesis of some very spectacular ingredients. It’s a cross between a croissant, a palmier and a butter cake. Buttery, caramelized luscious goodness. The very qualities that defy regional categorization and fall into the universal category of , “get in my belly you gorgeous butter bomb.”

Kouign Amann

Ingredients:

For the butter Block:
4 sticks of butter, cubed

For the Dough:
4 ½ cups flour
3 tablespoons sugar
1 3/4 cups water plus
1/8 cup lukewarm water in a separate container
1 teaspoon salt
1 tablepoon honey
4 packets dry yeast

For the sweetness:
2 to 3 cups of sugar

    starting a single turn a completed single turn

For the butter block:
Cut the butter into small pieces and place in mixer with paddle attachment. Mix until the butter is still cool to the touch but well combined and spreadable.

Transfer butter to a sheet of Saran Wrap and manipulate into a butter block about 8” x 8”. Cover and set aside in a cool place.

For the dough:

Bloom yeast in 1/8 cup lukewarm water until foamy. Transfer yeast and remaining 1 ¾ cups water into mixing bowl with dough hook attachment. With the mixer on slow, carefully add all remaining ingredients and knead until a shiny dough has formed, about 10 minutes. Cover with plastic wrap and let rest in refrigerator for 15 minutes.

Sprinkle your work surface with a flour and roll dough into a square approximately 9” x 9”. Place butter block diagonally on the dough. Gather the dough “triangles” to form a neat packet that covers the butter entirely and using a rolling pin, roll the dough into a rectangle about 20” long x 12” high. Make a single turn, cover with plastic wrap and let rest in the fridge about 30 minutes and roll out dough once more into a rectangle and make another single turn and let rest for another 30 minutes.

This time, when you take your dough out of the fridge, cut your dough “pillow” in half. This recipe is enough for two large Kouigns and then some. I take one half a pillow and freeze for another day. To use the frozen half, allow the half pillow to thaw over night and proceed to the next steps.

Sprinkle about ½ cup of sugar on your work surface and place your dough block on top. Sprinkle another ¼ cup evenly over the top surface of the dough and roll the dough out into a rectangle. You’re going to make two more single turns as before, but this time you’re going to be using sugar instead of flour and as you fold the dough, sprinkle sugar liberally over the exposed surfaces. Cover as before, let rest for 30 minutes and make another single turn with the sugar.

Allow the dough to rest about twenty minutes and then roll the dough into a rough circle as best as you can. Many people don’t worry about the edges being perfectly round and just nudge the dough into the general dimensions of an 8” or 9” round parchment lined cake pan. That’s fine. This pastry is not a “looker” no matter how you approach it, so clean lines are pretty much useless. However, I usually cut out a neat circle using a cake pan as a guide and then I’ll use the stray bits to make something creative, like line a strip of dough with sliced apples and then lace extra strips of dough on top.

Allow the pastry to proof in a warm place for about 30 minutes while you preheat your oven to 400 degrees. Sprinkle the Kouign once more with sugar before you pop her in the oven and bake for about 40 minutes and the top is browned and caramelized.

Gesine Confectionary Part Two: Pastry Boogaloo

(the new pastry delivery vehicle!  

now I just need a damn space to make the pastries.)

I’ve been running around these fair green mountains in search of a space for the second coming of Gesine Confectionary. I’m not asking for much. It has to have walls, running water and an absence of non-bipedal creatures. That’s right, I’m inviting kangaroos to the party and maybe a few of those adorable running lizards they show every nine minutes on Animal Planet promos. You can never see too many upright, sprinting lizards in my book.

Yet, despite my open heart and love of anthropomorphizing animals to the extent that I’ll invite them to work in the kitchen, my journey has not been simple and I’ve not yet found a space for my cold ovens and even more frigid baker’s hands. But fear not, I shall continue my quest unabated. I’ve even begun to regard my barn not so much a receptacle to house two cars and my husband’s studio but as a possible commercial bakery. I’m incorrigible and just a wee bit evil.

But life hasn’t been entirely about my real estate shakedown. I’ve also been outlining and generally noodling with my second book. Hey, just because the first one hasn’t come out yet doesn’t mean I can’t plug away on the second. Which leads me to ask, are any of you about to start up a food business? Have you just started a food business? Have you been running a food business for some time? How’s that working for you? I want to know and I may want to write about it because there’s kindred connection among us foodie knuckleheads who, despite all the known hardships and low profit margins, can’t NOT work with food. So tell me your stories. Think of it as therapy.

When Ant Music Isn't Enough

2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup (2 sticks) butter, softened
3/4 cup granulated sugar
3/4 cup packed brown sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 large eggs
2 cups (12-oz. pkg.) Nestlé Toll House Morsels

This recipe has been locked in my useless information vault since I was a hormonally challenged tweener. During those wacked out, crush saturated years; scarfing a couple dozen warm Toll House cookies was as close to Prozac as I’d ever get. Beating together room temperature butter with the sugar. Adding eggs and a healthy dose of shell, one at a time. Dumping in the dry ingredients way too fast on too high a speed, leaving behind a culinary tableau reminiscent of a Miami club scene in Scarface. That process of mixing, baking and binging brought me succor in a time when my legs perpetually ached from growing pains and my heart was savagely ravaged by the dulcet tones of a kohl schmeared Adam Ant.

Over the years, and long since my body’s chemistry has been put to rights (relatively speaking), I’ve made purposeful tweaks to this time-honored recipe to comport with my adult preferences for all things sweet, salty and chewy; a little less flour, just brown sugar, a little more salt. But once in a while, and usually when my mind has wandered, some materially significant chemical reaction will take place within the confines of my mixing bowl that will lead to a cookie altered quite unappealingly: the dough will spread unchecked into a single, flat crispy mass. Or the dough wont spread at all, leaving me with pert mounds of cakey blech. Sometimes an unintended molecular baking reaction will occur that I wish I could repeat on a regular basis. But then I have no freakin’ idea what the hell I did to make it happen in the first place. Like when the little buggers come out of the oven with an attractive crackly sheen, making them appear less like a homespun trainwreck and more like a fancy pants confection.

But I finally figured it out. Well, not really. The King Arthur flour peeps discovered it in relation to an entirely different recipe: brownies. In the search for the perfect fudgy, almost as good as from the stupid box brownie, the Spun Sugar Rhode’s Scholars of KAF figured out that if you melt the butter and sugar together first, until the sugar has pretty much melted into the butter into a shiny syrup, the brownies will get that fabulously shiny “crust” that we all know and love on those damn delicious boxed brownies. Now admit it, the boxed brownies are always better. That is, they were until King Arthur figured out what the hell to do.

So I applied this technique to Toll House cookies, melting together the butter and sugar until shiny, gently incorporating the eggs and then mixing the dry ingredients by hand and voila, a cookie with an appealing, crackly sheen. 

Feel free to pass this along to your unbearable tweener. Because Zac Efron (and his artful bedheaded mop) doesn't know that they're alive and they could really use a little Toll House love to ease the pain.

Begin the Beg(u)ine...Again

Many a moon ago, I was sitting in my kitchen in Montpelier, Vermont just noodling around. I got a call from my sister. She asked, “Hey, do you mind if I mention your almond macaroons in an interview with In Style magazine?” 

I'd created a recipe for delicious French almond macaroons. And I had left my life and job in Hollywood to try and make it in the rough and tumble world of professionally baking treats like my sweet little almond morsels in rural New England. But at the moment of the call, I hadn’t quite jumped into the fire. I was waiting for the next term at the culinary school to start so I could learn a few tricks. And on the side I did some experimental pastry work in my residential oven. I’d even had a few hundred orders of my macaroons for Christmas gifts. Granted, the entire order was made by my sister for the production company I’d just left, but still. It was an order. But all in all, like I said, I was really just noodling around.

But a mention in In Style? Are you kidding me? Nepotistic shout out or not, it was a big deal. Like, get off your ass and start a real bakery because you’re going to get a crap load of orders in a few months and you don’t have a place to bake commercially and don’t have a business plan and, come to think of it, you don’t even have a real business kind of big deal.

So began the slapstick genesis of Gesine Confectionary. I worked out of a food cooperative called the Vermont Food Venture Center at first. Brian, the guy who runs the joint, broke me into the world of food production. I had to get nutritional values, make the product shelf stable, figure out packaging and shipping, start a website to take in the orders and wear a hair net. I had to contact the FDA and give them a heads up that I was selling a comestible throughout these fair United States and prove that it wasn’t hazardous to the general welfare of her lovely citizens.

And all the while, my husband and I were gutting a little storefront on the outskirts of Montpelier and our contractor friends were putting it together again so the little rundown turn of the last century general store could be reopened as a tiny pastry shop nestled in the Green Mountains. And she was a bang up success, our little shop: mentions in magazines, an appearance in Food Network and wonderful regulars.

And then I wrote a book all about our sweet adventure and my transformation from sugar obsessed kid to Hollywood player to countryside cookie peddler. Shameless plug alert: it’s coming out on September 8th on Broadway Books. Pre-order on Amazon or wait to pick it up at a hardcover retailer near you in the fall!

We’ve since sold the sweet building on Elm Street that housed Gesine Confectionary and we took a sabbatical of sorts. For four months we’ve been in Austin Texas consulting on the opening of a beautiful shop called Waltons, handing out pastry and coffee tips until we were ready to head home again.

So now, we’re home. And I’m looking to start the next incarnation of Gesine Confectionary. So I’m on the hunt for a place, just a small commercial kitchen where I can bust out my flaky, chewy and melt in your mouth gems and package them for retail sale. But this time, I’m moving forward with a wealth of experience and plenty of business bruises. Do I want another real life storefront? I don’t think so. Do I want to take big chunks of time off, have the luxury of visiting with friends after the sun sets and have a schedule where I don’t have to wake at 3:30am every day? Yes please.

So that’s the goal and that will be the journey. But this time, I’m taking you with me. So if you ever wanted to start up a bakery, stay tuned.  And wish us luck.