Banketstaaf

It simply does not feel like Christmas without it. As soon as the banketstaaf hits the neighborhood bakery pastry case or the grocery store (which is right around Sinterklaas's arrival towards the end of November), there will be no way around it. At the office for the daily mid-morning cup of coffee, in the afternoon for that encouraging mug of hot tea, whenever you are presented with or have the opportunity to select something sweet, a tempting slice of banketstaaf will be there, in all its plain simplicity.

I say simplicity because there is really not much to a banketstaaf, by the looks of it. A bit of puff pastry, a center of almond paste, and if you're lucky and get the more luxurious version, an almond on top. And yet it all its modesty, the banket gives you a feeling of well-being, of abundance, of comfort. It's sheer luxury to bite into the crispy, flaky top and taste the sweet, almond paste. Just look at people's faces when they take their first bite....Who can say "no" to that?!

Banketstaaf, or sometimes just called banket, is traditionally sold in the shape of a log or rod. If it's shaped like an M or an S, it's called banketletter. This recipe makes two 9 inch staven, or logs, that can be eaten cold or warm. It's a great gift to share, and fun for kids to help make. Or you can double the recipe, and while the other two banket are baking, put your feet up, pour a cup of coffee or tea and serve yourself a slice of the still warm banketstaaf you just made....A treat well deserved!

Banketstaaf

1.25 lbs (560 grams) almond paste

or
10 oz slivered almonds (285 grms)
10 oz powdered sugar (285 grms)
1 teaspoon lemon zest
1 large egg, beaten
1 teaspoon almond extract
1 large puff pastry sheet (usually approx. 10 x 15 inches) 
10 whole blanched almonds


Thaw the puff pastry sheet on the counter. In the meantime, pulse half of the slivered almonds with half of the sugar in a food processor until the almonds have turned into rough meal. Do the same with the other half of the almonds and sugar. Mix the flours in a bowl, and add the teaspoon of lemon zest, the beaten egg (minus a tablespoon) and the almond extract. Knead to a pliable paste. Divide the amount in two and wrap each in plastic film. Refrigerate while you wait for the puff pastry to thaw. The almond paste can also be made a day or two in advance.

When the puff pastry has thawed, dust the counter with a little bit of flour. Unfold the puff pastry and carefully roll the dough out to a 10 x 10 (25 cm) inch square. Cut the dough horizontally in half so that you have two 10 x 5 inch pieces, with the long side towards you. Now...if your puff pastry sheet has a different size, don't worry about it - just cut it so you have two rectangular shapes. 

Heat the oven to 400F (200C). Remove the almond paste from the fridge and roll each log, while still in the plastic wrap to a uniform log of about 9 inches (22 cm) long, or a little shorter than the length of your dough. Place it in the middle of one of the puff pastry strips. Carefully pull the top part of the dough over the log, and roll it towards you. Wet the bottom half inch of the dough with a little bit of water, and roll the dough tightly over the seam. Fold in the edges on each side so that the log is sealed. Do the same with the second log.

Put parchment paper on a baking sheet and place both logs on top. Press five almonds into the top of each log, and brush lightly with the remaining egg. Put the sheet pan in the fridge for ten minutes to chill the puff pastry, then bake on the middle rack of the oven for 20 minutes, or until golden and puffy.

Cool until warm, cut into slices and serve warm or cold. Goes great with a cup of coffee, some tea or hot chocolate!

Speculaascake met peren

These are busy times in a Dutch household! It's only five more days until Sinterklaas is supposed to leave a sackload of gifts on the doorstep but most people, as help-Sints(ahem ahem), still have gifts to buy, rhymes to come up with and even worse, think of any surprises they are going to built this year. Because during Sinterklaas you don't just wrap a present and attach a card to it: you disguise the gift into a completely unrelated (or not) object and write a long, tongue-in-cheek-and-poking-fun rhyming poem for the recipient of your generosity.

So if that's you, don't despair. You still have five whole days. Treat yourself to a comforting, sweet and hopefully rhyme-inspiring cake, made with fresh fruit and speculaaskruiden, those all-present spices that flavor just about anything this time of year.

Put your feet up with a good cup of coffee and a slice of speculaascake. Pears are a fantastic fall and winter fruit, and speculaas evokes promises of goodness and cheer. Take a sip, munch a bite. Grab a pen and paper. Go to the RhymeZone and before you know it, a fantastic poem will come right rolling out!

Speculaascake met peren
1 stick (100 grams) butter

1.5 cups (225 grams) all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 cup (200 grams) sugar

1 tablespoon speculaas* spices
1/2 cup (120 ml) milk
2 eggs

3 pears (preferably Bartlett)
Lemon juice

Apricot jam

Powdered sugar
 

Soften the butter in the microwave, or melt carefully on stovetop and then cool down to room temperature. 

Mix the dry ingredients (flour through spices) in one bowl. Beat the milk and the eggs together, then fold them into the dry ingredients. Lastly, fold in the butter. 

Heat the oven to 325F/165C. Butter a 9 inch (22cm) pie plate or spring form. Peel the pears, slice them in half and remove the core. Slice the pear halves in thin slices, but keep them together, and brush with a little bit of lemon juice. Pour the batter into the pie plate and place five pear halves on top, pushing them slightly into the dough, but just a little bit.

Bake for 50 minutes or until done. Brush the pears with a little bit of apricot jam. Let cool. Dust with powdered sugar before serving.

Speculaas spices: mix 2 tablespoons of ground cinnamon with ½ teaspoon of nutmeg, clove, ginger and coriander each, 1/4 teaspoon of cardamom, white pepper, and ground orange peel. 

Goulashsoep

Dutch winter evenings are often a display of opposites. Dark, cold nights, with a howling northern wind that is trying to get into every nook and cranny of the house, frozen canals on which you can hear the loud pangs of the ice thickening while you are trying to cycle your way home as fast as you can. But once the house comes in sight, the welcoming glow of the outside light by the door draws you in, the gezellige steamed up kitchen windows promise good food, the glow of the fireplace warms your heart. And while you peel off all those layers of clothes that have kept you from freezing on your outside adventure, a big plate of warming, comforting food is set before you. Ah bliss!

This season is generally cold and harsh, especially on the open country roads. It is a perfect time of the year for comfort food, one of the many things our cuisine excels in. Thick soups, casseroles and slow cooked meats such as good old-fashioned draadjesvlees, or meat simmered to threads, are all favorites during this time of year. It’s a time to stir up a pot of old time traditionals such as goulashsoep, an originally Hungarian soup that is now one of the standard offerings in commercially available products in the Netherlands.

Goulashsoep

3 tablespoons of bacon grease

1 large onion, diced

2 heaping tablespoons of Hungarian paprika

2 lb of beef (chuck rib or pot roast)

2 carrots

3 cloves of garlic

2 medium red peppers

2 medium sized potatoes

1 tablespoon of caraway seeds

Heat your cooking pot and melt the bacon grease. When the fat is hot,  add the onions. Stir until they are translucent. Take the pot off the stove and stir in the paprika. Note: you want the paprika to hit the hot grease and release most of its flavor but you don't want it to burn as it will turn bitter and spoil the dish.

Put the pot back on the stove and add the beef, cut in bite size chunks. Sauté the meat in the hot fat and mix it in with the onions and the paprika, then turn down the heat and add 2 cups of warm water. Let the beef braise in a covered pot for about a good hour, keeping an eye on the amount of liquid. Make sure you have enough liquid in the pot at all times!

Peel and cut the carrots in bitesize pieces or slices, whichever you prefer. Peel and mince the garlic, and slice the peppers into 1 inch pieces, after removing the seeds. Add the carrots, garlic and peppers to the pot, add three more cups of water and let the stew slowly simmer for another hour.

Cube the potatoes after you peel them and add them to the pot with three additional cups of water. Stir in the tablespoon of caraway seed and simmer until the potatoes are done. On a slow simmer, the potatoes will thicken the stew and bring all the flavors together. Before you serve, taste and adjust with salt and pepper, if needed.

Citroencake

We Dutch, how we love our coffee! In case you did not grow up with it, Douwe Egberts is our national coffee brand. Since their start in 1753, the company also sold tea, but it wasn't until 1937 that Pickwick was adopted as a brand name for this specific product branch. According to the 2007 numbers from the Centraal Bureau voor de Statistiek (CBS), we drink an average of 3.2 cups a day. The second most consumed beverage is tea, at a rate of 100 liters a year per person. Men tend to drink more coffee, women appear to favor tea, especially in the afternoons.

It's not surprising. Tea, the way it is taken in Holland, in a glass mug and plain with perhaps a bit of sugar, has something comforting, kind and gentle about it. It's a cup of tea your mom has ready for you, waiting at the kitchen table, for when you get home from school. It's what young girls drink when they get together on a Saturday afternoon to play. It's tea, a big pot of it, that women will brew when their best friend is coming over for a shoulder to cry on. A big pot of tea, and a slice of cake. Besides coffee, we love cake.

The word "cake" in Dutch is used for pound cakes and loaf cakes only. Any other cake goes by the name of "taart". One of the most favorite cakes is citroencake, a lemon flavored pound cake. The richness of the cake goes well with the slight astringent character of tea, and make for a perfect moment of bliss.....

Citroencake
1 cup butter, softened
1 heaping cup sugar
1 1/2 cup cake flour
5 eggs, room temperature
1 teaspoon lemon extract
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon salt
4 tablespoons powdered sugar
1 tablespoon milk
Zest and juice of 1 lemon

Cream the butter and the sugar together. Carefully incorporate one egg at a time. Fold in the flour and mix for another 30 seconds. Mix in the lemon extract, the vanilla extract, the salt and one tablespoon of the lemon juice.

Preheat the oven to 350F. Butter and flour a 9x5 loaf pan. Scoop the batter in the pan, and bake for 50 minutes to an hour, until the cake is golden brown.

Leave it in the pan for ten minutes, then unmold it and let the cake cool on a rack. In the meantime, mix the powdered sugar with the milk and enough lemon juice to make a thick glaze. Pour the glaze over the cool cake, and sprinkle the zest on top.

By the way, the Pickwick tune that is used in their commercials is very catchy....you've been warned! :-)

Appelcarrée

Any old Dutch cookbook worth its weight will have a large variety of apple dishes: after all, it is one of our favorite fruits! The most recipes I've counted were in a Margriet cookbook from 1962, listing a whopping 35 apple recipes, from traditional ones like appeltaart and appelbollen, to more obscure dishes called appelsneeuwberg and appelcoupe. Worth investigating!

The Romans introduced the apples in the Netherlands, or at least made a valuable contribution, and we've tinkered with the fruit since. As we would. Numerous varieties with interesting names such as Notarisappel, Brabantse Bellefleur, Zoete Ermgaard and the beloved Elstar are being produced and maintained, but sometimes old trees like these disappear. If you are considering planting a tree or two, why not look into some of these old Dutch varieties?

In the meantime, company is on its way and I've pulled some puff pastry from the freezer. Today I'm making an appelcarrée, similar to an appelflap, but a little bit fancier presentation-wise.

Appelcarrée
1 package of puff pastry
3 apples, preferably a variety of flavors
1 tablespoon lemon juice
3 tablespoons sugar
Cinnamon (optional)
Raisins (optional)
1 egg, beaten
2 tablespoons apricot jam

Thaw the sheets of puff pastry. In the meantime, peel, core and chop the apples into small pieces. Mix with the lemon juice and the sugar: add cinnamon and raisins if desired.

Divide the puff pastry along the folds so that you end up with six strips: approximately 3 inches wide, 9 inches long. Spread the apple filling from top to bottom on 3 strips of the pastry, leaving about a half inch on each side.

Cut horizontal (to the short edge) lines into the remaining three strips, careful to not cut all the way to the side, leave about half an inch on each side. You're looking for a louvered look: this will allow for the steam to escape while the apples cook and prevent a soggy mess. Lift and cover the apple mixture with the pastry. Use a fork to push down on the edges, on all sides, to seal the dough.

Heat the oven to 375F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper and carefully place your three appelcarrées on the pan. Brush each pastry with egg, then bake in the oven for 20 minutes, until golden brown.

Remove the carrées from the oven. Mix one tablespoon of water to thin the apricot jam, and brush the top of the pastries with the jam. Eat warm (preferably).