This house tends to breed aggression and confrontation on Sunday nights. While the intelligent part of the human population spends their weekends actively accomplishing things, we prefer to go on a * 40-hour journey of listlessness. There are times when sloth can encourage divine wrath to smite us rightfully. Consequently, there is always so much shit to do on Sunday nights that there isn’t nearly enough time (and even less patience). We have the makings of a perfect storm when we combine this with loathing the upcoming work week.
What do you mean you won’t post a recipe this week? Really? I don’t care if they relax the participation requirements. What about the blog, our readers, our online image? Well, I will write more posts if you want me to, but that’s an entirely different topic. This sounds amazing. It can’t possibly be that complicated, even if it’s “3 pages long.”
(finishes the beer and spitefully tosses it into the recycling bin – at least I’m an eco-conscious asshole)
Well, what do you want to know? There’s no chance I won’t be able to make it to perfection if it’s in the “simple baking book.”. If I manage to make it, it will be the best post this week. Apart from that, you know, the group is underrepresented by men. Most of the most incredible bakers in history are male. This is something I’ve been meaning to do for a long time. In the words of an intelligent man, “if a man feels like making an almond cocoa genoise or a few madeleines, well…he should be able to.” FINE! While you go to the grocery store alone, I will stay at home and work on this because I CARE, unlike you!
The first lesson is not to be such a braggart when you are only 80% sure you are right. In most cases, everything goes smoothly. Alternatively, when it turns out you are utterly wrong, you will look like a complete idiot/ass/etc.
A few tack hammers and screws won’t build a house. The odds of failing 99% of the time are high if you don’t have the right equipment.
Here is my example of using the wrong equipment. I used my professional pastry bag (1 gal ziplock bag with tip attached) and a far too large cake circle. The dacquoise did not end up being spread onto three equal rectangles as I initially thought but instead piped into a disk.
My round was too big, and my half sheet pan didn’t fit it. Anyhow, I piped one out roughly by hand.
It’s a post-modern take on a circle. Although Euclidean geometry has repeatedly proved that a process is symmetrical when bisected from any angle, that does not mean I have to adhere to these archaic ideals. In addition, I purposefully left some space between a few of the layers. It was, in fact, part of the master plan and was not due to a problem with the piping bag.
The disk was thrown away immediately.
This is my second attempt at piping a circular dacquoise disk, and I decided this time to go for a significantly more classical approach to my disk. I tried to take some creative license when it came to the final shape, as you can see. This is called: “The Pregnant Circle,” and I am pretty proud of its success.
Oh wait, I’m BSing. The roundness wasn’t quite good enough, but if you notice, it’s MUCH better than my first attempt (roughly three times as good). There is no space between the lines, and everything is perfectly baked.
You must not, I repeat, DO NOT remove any baked item from parchment paper until it is completely cooled, unless either 1) you are specifically instructed to do so in the recipe or 2) you intend to destroy what you have created.
To resolve the circular problem following the major crack, I used a very sharp knife to trim the waste after placing (the lightest) bowl over the top. This solution was about 50% effective. If I had had those as mentioned above appropriately sized cake round (see lesson 2), I would have been able to accomplish this delicate operation without any problems. However, I did not, and the bowl I was holding moved slightly in the process, cracking the dacquoise into multiple pieces and shattering my heart.
Overall, I thought this recipe was excellent and would have tasted great in any form. Dacquoise was smashed to bits during a fit of frustration as I hurled kitchen items and cursed. I then brought it to my office this morning, where my ravenous co-workers consumed the entire thing. Just for the dacquoise cookies, I would make this again.
I believe I wrote the best post this week (possibly ever), making this post part of the 80% of the time where I was right.