Tree Down!

The apple tree in the backyard came down this afternoon. I understand the need to have it cut, because it was old and sick and the rot was slowly making its way down through the trunk. But I have a lot of memories of climbing that tree when I was little, or swinging on the tire swing hung from the strongest branch, and losing a fair number of balls and Frisbees and badminton shuttlecocks into the leaves.

This is what’s left of the tree:




The apples were generic New England glorified crabapples. Small, tart, kind of bitter, and usually with a worm or two wending its way through the interior. Which means, of course, that they were perfect for sauces and pies. Generally speaking, the best cooking apples are the ones that are almost too strong to eat raw. Something very tart (like a Tompkins King or a Northern Spy) and bitter (like a Brown Snout or a Sheepsnose variety) holds it flavor well when cooked up, leaving a pie that you know was made from apples. The complex sugars in the fruit are broken down, and the simple sugars gently caramelize, helping to balance out the acid content of those older varieties.

Of course, sometimes you want an apple that will hold its shape as much as you want the best flavor. Maybe you’re making a tart, or coring the fruit and stuffing them with nuts and bread and raisins and maple syrup before slowly cooking them in a 300 degree oven. I’m hungry right now, in case you couldn’t tell. For those duties, find yourself a nice bushel of Macs or Cortlands. They’ll hold their shape when they’re heated, and they’re not shabby in the taste department either.

Even the much-maligned Red Delicious has a role in the kitchen. No, seriously. That same apple that everyone loves to hate because it’s mealy and bred for perfection and has an insipid flavor… it’s a useful critter. Yes, I know it’s the apple equivalent of the bleach-blonde model with an IQ approaching her bra size. Any self-respecting pie maker must turn his nose up and snort derisively when somebody mentions the name “Red Delicious”. Right?

Nope.

There are two reasons to legitimately have Red Delicious (RD) in the kitchen. The pomologists in the audience already know the first one: The RD was not always grown in its current form. Originally, of course, it lived up to its name by being a damn good eating apple. Those original strains of RD can be found all over the East Coast, and probably elsewhere also, and they’re really worth trying if you find them somewhere.

The second reason applies to the modern “Baywatch” variety of RD. As crappy an eating apple as it is (and yep, it’s still crappy), the modern RD has replaced the traditional apple acids and tannins with sugars and aromatics. So the savvy pie baker (ask your great-great-grandmother at your next séance) will always cut in a couple of RDs, chopped into tiny bits, to sweeten the pie and make it smell fantastic, which is smart considering how closely our sense of taste is related to our sense of smell. No need for sugar in the filling, and certainly no vanilla, but a pair of Red Delicious instead.

Damn, I think I’ve developed a craving.

Making Madeleines

Prep time: 15 minutes
Cook time: 12-20 minutes

Madeleine Recipe For Four Molds

Sugar – 1.333 cup
Orange extract - 2tsp
Eggs - 6

Melted Butter - 2.5 sticks

Flour - 2 cups

Preheat oven to 400F

Throw the sugar, orange extract, and eggs into a bowl and beat them. A Kitchenaid or other stand mixer with a whisk or beater attachment is a 1:72 scale version of god when it comes to this recipe. With the beating started, melt the butter, probably in the microwave.

By the time the butter is melted, the egg mix should look like this:


And the butter should look like this:


Chunks in the butter are okay, but they shouldn’t be too big. In this case, another ten seconds in the microwave should fix it.

Pour the butter slowly into the eggs and sugar, whisking the whole time. Once the butter is mixed, slowly add the flour. If you’re whisking by hand, this is where your daily weight training happens. With the flour all added in, the batter should look creamy, with little peaks. Kind of like this:


Now you get your Madeleine molds out. No molds? No problem. Pretty much any mold will work, including muffin (or mini muffin) pans. If you want the actual seashell molds, you can find them online or at cooking stores fairly easily. Nonstick is nice, but not necessary, because you’re going to butter the shit out of the pan before dumping the batter in.

As for the seashell shape, I have no idea. Maybe they were originally baked in seashells? Honestly, to me, the strakes on the bottom of the finished Madeleine look like the bottom of a jetski. Seriously, go find a picture. It’s eerily close.

Speaking of butter, you should now melt a little more into a small bowl. Grab a pastry or basting brush, and slather the butter into each of the molds, making sure to get some up and over the edge of each indentation. You don’t need to be careful, especially since rushing the job and laying it on thick works best. In the photo, the molds to the left are buttered, and the ones on the right are dry. Get them all!


Scoop some of the batter into the molds. It expands, so anywhere from half to two-thirds full is plenty. Yeah, like this:


They go into the oven for anywhere from 12-20 minutes, depending on the usual variables of size and pan material and actual oven temperature, so keep an eye on them. They should look like this when they come out.


Tip them out onto cooling rack and you’re done!


In case you didn’t catch the recipe, these are basically carbs and butter fat, so they’re properly appalling to the dieting types. They’re French, too, so remember to drink plenty of wine to stave off heart disease. I obviously eat these things whenever I can get my hands on them, and I’ve had no heart attacks so far. But I think that if my arteries ever unionize I might be in trouble.