New Confections of a Closet Master Baker Trailer!

New Confections of a Closet Master Baker Trailer from Raymond Prado on Vimeo.

Wherein My Mother Says, "PUT THAT BACK IN!"

Café Sabarsky

When I was a kid, mom took me to Rumpelmeyers in New York. The magnitude of this experience can only be appreciated if you lived in a household ruled by broiled tempeh and a myriad of seaweed products, as I did. Not a sweet treat to be found. I was raised in a macrobiotic dungeon and dreamt non-stop of sugar.  

When we traveled to my parent's place on the upper west side, mom and I would embark upon adventures in the big city, walking past Lincoln Center towards Columbus Circle and then diving into the beauty of the park. Once, on such a lovely stroll, we happened upon a man pleasuring himself on a prominent hilltop, Shake Spear in the Park, if you will. All the natives walked by unfazed. My mother, however, marched up the hill and scolded him with her commanding German accent, “You stop that! Put that back in!”

Victorious in breaking the romantic mood, my mother took me directly to Rumpelmeyers, the cradle of confectionary civilization. Smart woman that she was, she knew the healing power that pink chintz and an old-fashioned ice cream soda could have on a girl scarred by the spectacle of a homeless gent manhandling his member in public.

Years later, a grown woman working in Hollywood and filming a movie in NYC, I found myself in a laborious production meeting in a vacant storefront. Bored out of my skull, I focused on my sad surroundings. I shouldn’t have. They hadn’t bothered clearing out the white, wrought iron filigreed chairs. The cream and pink wallpaper still clung, just barely. And the chintz window treatments suffered the indignity of framing windows boarded by plywood. In shock, I muttered under my breath, "For f*ck's sake, this is Rumpelmeyers." There was no succor to be found in that space anymore, just heartbreak.

Thankfully, I’ve since found a replacement. On the upper east side, nestled in a small gem of a museum called the Neue Gallerie, is the Café Sabarsky. This is the Viennese Pastry nirvana the Austrians wish they had. The space is sublime, old world coffee house perfection. The service is silver trayed and Germanic. The desserts exhibit the beauty of a Klimt and possess such beautiful flavors that they have all the healing powers of a Rumpelmeyers ice cream soda, and then some.

So if you ever find yourself in New York and in need of sweet succor, get yourself to Café Sabarsky. Have a slice of Dobos Torte for me.

First 15 Pages of Confections on Amazon!

Preview Confections of a Closet Master Baker on Amazon!

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.