Christmas Market Magic and Kugelhopf

When your child becomes an ex-pat in another country, f you're very lucky, your child will take you on adventures that you might have missed along the way.

The fairy-tale lover in me has always wanted to experience the Christmas markets in Germany. The nooks and crannies, the nearby gnarled woods, the light in the dark and the magical occurrences that all seem possible this time of year. 

And it happened.

Strasbourg: On the border with Germany, it is the oldest Christmas Market in Europe. Originally called the Saint Nicholas Market, it was renamed when a Reformation preacher took umbrage of having a Christmas Market named for an outlawed patron Saint. (Heavens to Betsy!)

Chandeliers in Baccarat crystal guide you to the Place de la Cathedrale, where the main market is. It's all flight and fancy. It's hard to make it to the main market, because you have to stop at every window. Every. Single One.

The Charcuterie knows what they are about.

Outside the Cathedral, there is the usual array of ornaments (yes, I bought some), cookies (yes, we ate some), nuts, Gluhwein (yes, we drank some) and artisan gifts crafted from wood and stone.

And then there is this tree. The story behind the magic is here.

After Strasbourg, we went to Matthew's "home" town of Quedlinburg. It's where I first fell in love with the Moravian star also knows as the "Herrnhuter." It's origins come from Saxony (where Quedlinburg is located). Of course, it also has a story. Find it here.

I love the smaller towns and their personalities. While Strasbourg is adorned with crystal, Quedlinburg is all about the nearby forests and Harz mountains. Timber and greens are everywhere.

You will not leave hungry.

You will be filled with music.

We took a side trip to Wernigerode near the Harz mountains. We climbed up (and up and up and up) to the castle on top of the town. It was a hike. But then there are the rewards:

The market was just getting going.

And there was Gluhwein to keep you warm.

We went to the Advent Fair in Quedlinburg. Every alley, every small park, every groove called to you with warm lights, hearty meats, wine, beer, and hand-crafted items.

Magical.

As is my way, I relive this memories with food because as much as I love the travel, I am also more than 50% "There's No Place Like Home." Home incorporates where you've been and who you are now.

German food has a lot in common with Minnesota. It's hearty for the winter. It's yeasty and earthy and is fond of calories. The Kugelhopf many have originated in Vienna, but Alsace upped their game and it is one of the most traditional Christmas foods in the region. They use a Kugelhopf pan (I used a Bundt). It's easy to make even if you're afraid of yeast (I murder yeast). I did the minimum cooking time and they were darker than I wanted. But live and learn and live to bake again.

Ingredients (from Epicurious) - 8-10 servings

• 1 1/2 teaspoons active dry yeast (less than 1 envelope)
• 2 tablespoons warm water (105–115°F)
• 1 cup whole milk
• 7 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into tablespoon pieces and softened
• 6 tablespoons granulated sugar
• 3 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 2 large eggs
• 1 1/2 cups golden raisins (In Alsace, they marinate the raisins in kirsch)
• 1 teaspoon finely grated fresh orange or lemon zest
• About 20 whole blanched almonds (1/2 ounces) (I didn't use, didn't work with mini-bundt pan)
• 1 tablespoon confectioners sugar

Preparation

1. 1. Stir together yeast and water in a small bowl and let stand until foamy, 5 to 10 minutes. (If mixture doesn't foam, discard and start over with new yeast. (Ha! I did that!)
   2. Heat milk with 6 tablespoons butter and granulated sugar over low heat, stirring, until mixture is warm (105 to 115°F), butter is melted, and sugar is dissolved.
   3. Sift together flour and salt into bowl of standing mixer. Make a well in flour and add yeast mixture. Add warm milk in a slow stream, mixing at low speed with paddle attachment. Increase speed to medium and beat in eggs 1 at a time, then beat in raisins and zest. Continue to beat until dough is smooth and elastic, about 5 minutes. (Dough will be very sticky.)
   4. Butter kugelhopf mold with remaining tablespoon butter. (I use Pam) Put 1 almond in each depression in bottom of mold (the almonds are only decorative; you can skip them altogether if your mold has no depressions), then scrape spoonfuls of dough evenly into mold (dough will be very elastic). Cover top of mold with oiled plastic wrap and a kitchen towel and let dough rise in a warm place until it fills pan, about 2 hours.
   5. Preheat oven to 400°F.
   6. Remove towel from kugelhopf and gently peel off plastic wrap. Bake kugelhopf in middle of oven 15 minutes, then loosely cover mold with foil and continue to bake until golden and a tester inserted in center comes out clean, 20 to 25 minutes more. (20 minutes was too long for my oven. I would check at fifteen minutes even if you use a light-colored pan). Cool in pan 2 minutes, then invert cake onto a rack to cool completely, about 1 hour. Dust with confectioners sugar.

Cooks' note:

· Kugelhopf is best eaten the same day it's made; however, leftovers are delicious toasted.
· Use a light-colored metal pan. Because they retain more heat, dark metal pans, including nonstick, will likely make your baked goods darker and decrease the cooking times.

Wishing you holiday enchantment and wonders and goodness in 2019.

Sylvia Cake

When I started Journey of an Italian Cook more than a decade ago, I had two teens living at home and we ate a lot of pasta (and risotto and polenta and bread). Fast forward (it's been a really fast "fast-forward") and one child has been living in Germany for a few years, while another has started her professional life in St. Paul. The days of "pasta and roses" have dwindled. A more vegetable centric, low-carbohydrate lifestyle (no pasta, no risotto, no polenta, no bread) eeked its way into our lives. 

Maybe it's the thirty-odd years of living in Minnesota, but a Scandinavian gene sneaked its way into my body.

It's not quite a fjord, but Minnesota has it share of the blazing-blue sky, frigid days. And I have fallen for its stark beauty. I have also fallen for Fika - a Swedish "coffee and cake" break - designed to be shared with friends. Part of that hygge lifestyle I fell into many years ago before I knew what it was.

I am working my way through Scandikitchen Fika & Hygge by Bronte Aurell. There's quite a lot for those with a semi-sweet tooth - just sweet enough without throwing scads of sugar into your bloodstream.

Above is the "Sylvia Cake" which Aurell surmises is named after the Queen of Sweden. It's also considered a "poor man's cake" (fattigmanskaka) because water is one of the ingredients. But what is important is not the name or the addition of water, but the fact that it is really one of the most satisfying, sweet-nibbles out there. Even my Italian ancestors would have a slice with their espresso. You should also.

Ingredients (Serves 12-16) or in my home: 8
Cake
3 eggs plus one yolk
160 grams or 3/4 cup minus 1 tablespoon caster/granulated sugar
80 grams or 1/2 cup minus 1 tablespoon light brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon vanilla or seeds from 1/2 vanilla pod
200 grams or 1-1/2 cups all-purpose-flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
a pinch of salt
100 ml or 1/3 cup cold water

Frosting
150 grams or 1-1/2 sticks butter
150 grams or 3/4 cup caster/granulated sugar
1/2 teaspoon vanilla or seeds from 1/2 vanilla pod
2 egg yolks
1 few drops of lemon juice
75 grams or  i cup dried shredded coconut

a 20x20 cm or 8x8 inch square baking pan greased and lined with parchment paper

Preparation

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F or 180 degrees C
2. Whisk (in stand mixer or by hand) the eggs with the granulated sugar, light brown sugar and vanilla until thick and fluffy.
2. Sift flour, baking powder and salt and then fold into sugar-egg mixture. Slowly add the cold water and fold until incorporated.
3. Bake in the middle of the preheated oven 25-30 minutes - until well-risen, golden brown and springy to the touch. A toothpick inserted in center should come out clean.

Frosting (Make while cake is baking)
1. Melt butter in saucepan (do not brown). Add sugar and vanilla and stir a bit to dissolve. With heat on low, add egg yolks one at a time, whisking until smooth. Remove from heat.  Add 1/4 cup (50 grams) of the coconut and stir until combined and thick.

Now the fun part that adds so much: Preheat broiler. Spread the frosting over the cake and place the cake under the hot broiler for just a minute or two. You want it lightly caramelized (so good).

Remove from broiler and add the rest of the coconut to cover the cake (add a little more if needed).  Allow to completely cool before serving. Cut into squares.

It's a cosy cake. There's no higher compliment.

So yes, there have been changes. But some things remain the same.

Wishing my USA friends a Happy Thanksgiving and everyone a sweet November.

Carnevale Pie

Something happened a few years ago. I developed a Scandinavian gene.  After decades of putting out antipasti platters, bruschetta with crostini and variations of a Caprese appetizer, my mind wanders to dark bread, open-faced sandwiches (butter, arugula, a gorgonzola slab and some sour cherry jam is an excellent choice). Maybe the decades of living in Minnesota have changed my genetic make-up and I have more in common with the Christensens and Andersens than I previously thought.

The joke here in Minnesota is, "Antarctica called. They want their weather back." We haven't had a real winter in a few years. It's back.

I also like winter. (My family now does a double-take and wonders who inhabits my body.) I've always been one for cozy winter eves, huddled under a blanket, candles lit, cats purring, books lined up and the requisite glass of wine. Nothing needs to be mowed or weeded. The outside in winter-white - stark and simple.  They call it "gezellig" in Dutch - that warm cozy feeling like a hug. Something I have practiced for decades. It's "hygge" in Danish and I guess it has become a huge thing - but it's attitude is something I've always embraced (or.... hugged?).

Part of hygge is treating yourself. (Ostensibly after you skied down a mountain for eight hours.) Well, I didn't ski down a mountain but even a short outing in the frigid air is cause for baking.

Below is a lemon-ricottta-semolina pie - Il Migliaccio in Italian. It hails from Naples so hardly Scandinavian. But perfect for Carnevale/Mardi Gras, simple enough to make and comforting to eat. The pie tastes light - it is not overwhelmingly sweet and it comforts which is the purpose of eating dessert.

There are many variations. I used the recipe from Manu's Menu and except for a few changes, the recipe's a keeper. You probably have most of the ingredients.

Ingredients
2 cups water
2 cups milk
3-1/2 tablespoons butter
peel of one lemon (I wouldn't bother next time. I'd just double the limoncello.) Or zest a lemon.
1 pinch salt
1-2/3 cups semolina
4 eggs
1-1/2 cups granulated sugar
12 ounces ricotta (drained, commercial ricotta works best in this recipe)
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 tablespoon limoncello (says its optional but definitely use it or use fresh lemon juice and I'd add at least another 1/2 tablespoon)
Icing sugar to decorate (NY Times has a raspberry sauce for it which works)

1. Preheat oven to 355 degrees F. Butter a 9-inch springform pan.

2. Put the milk water, butter and lemon peel in a large saucepan. Bring to a boil. Remove lemon peel (if you zest, leave it in) and slowly add the semolina - constantly stirring. Stir for ten minutes (yeah, the arms got a work out. I wound up just constantly folding and lasted about 7 minutes and declared it good enough). Try not to get any lumps but if you do smooth it out with an immersion blender (I got a few and I blended the entire thing because I like getting batter everywhere - including in my hair). Let it cool for a few minutes.

3. Whisk the eggs with the sugar. Add the ricotta, vanilla and limoncello and whisk well.

4. Slowly add in the semolina mixture and combine well.

5. Pour mixture into prepared pan.

6. Bake for sixty minutes (starting checking around 55 minutes). The pie will be slightly wobbly (like a cheese cake but a toothpick inserted in the middle should come out clean).

7. Cool completely. Sprinkle icing (confectioner's) sugar over it. Serve at room temperature or cold.

If you need another reason to embrace, winter: sunrises.