What was intended to be a short post with an even shorter recipe has exploded into a mountain of crème. Who knew that something as mundane as dairy could trigger such heated arguments. Debate over pasteurized dairy is near the boiling point, pardon the pun. I discovered that and more in my search for the origins of that moderately mysterious ingredient listed in the brioche tart recipe, crème fraîche.

What the heck is that?! Although the French translation is “fresh cream” this is actually a sour cream, that isn’t, but with just a little tang. Despite the schizophrenic classifications, the steady murmurs of appreciation that can be heard o’er hill and dale all sound basically the same…velvety, creamy, smooth. Regan Daley recounts it as, “… France’s most generous contribution to the world of dairy products,” in her book In the Sweet Kitchen.

To call this France’s version of sour cream really doesn’t do it justice. While both are cultivated in a similar fashion and they may be substituted for one another (generally speaking), they are quite varied. One telling factor is the fat content. Regular sour cream, not the corrupted low-fat and *gah!* fat-free versions, averages out to about 14% butterfat. Crème fraîche’s got around 40% butterFAT. Wow!  

Unfortunately most of us who get our dairy in North America are unlikely to realize what all that pristine unpasteurized butterfat really tastes like unless we travel across the pond, or know a farmer with a cow. I don’t really want to get into the whole pasteurized vs. unpasteurized debate much. Still, I wouldn’t want milk or any other dairy to be unpasteurized on scale until a dramatic overhaul of the food manufacturing industry occurred. Industrial food production strikes me as a scary business these days, and I’d rather anything they tried to produce be heated to destroy any nastiness within. That said, if I personally knew a guy with a cow, well, he and I would have to have a chat.

The same process that creates booze, vinegar, lots of cheeses, dill pickles even is responsible for crème fraîche…fermentation, in this case lactic acid fermentation. This is going to sound a bit ominous (at least it does to me, any time someone mentions the word bacteria I OCD-out), but it involves introducing some culture, a.k.a. bacteria, into your food-stuffs, in this case heavy cream. The bacteria converts lactose, a.k.a. sugar, in the cream into lactate, a.k.a. lactic acid or milk acid, giving the cream a zesty flavor as well as a thick, velvety texture.

I couldn’t find an exact history of crème fraîche, like when it was first discovered, although many trace its origins to the preeminent dairy region of the world, Normandy. Chances are the discovery was made soon after the first cow was milked because of the inherent composition of milk, not to mention a lack of refrigeration. For instance in France, and other places which allow unpasteurized food-stuffs, cream is left to ferment on its own since the nature of fresh, unprocessed milk is chockablock with bacteria. In North America we must supply the culture to get the alchemy going. This most often is accomplished in the form of an addition of buttermilk which is a fermented dairy product in its own right. Either way, given enough time in a moderately warm place the cream is transformed into a rich yet light, luxurious crème.

Don’t get me wrong, despite the one or two ingredient list, crème fraîche can be a complicated production. It seems that everything from the cow breed, what it’s fed, to probably the weather can modify the flavor. Apparently Jersey cow milk produces more diacetyl, a metabolic product of lactic acid , in the fermentation process. Diacetyl is responsible for the renowned flavor of butter and gives cream a golden glow. Butter is all well and good if that’s a flavor you’re after. But what if you’re looking for something that packs all of that velvety texture but is unadulterated in flavor? Then Holstein milk would be a better choice with its lighter diacetyl yield that delivers a restrained flavor in a lofty cream. Aside from the diacetyl content, Jersey cows tend to bring everything up to 11. They have higher percentage rates than Holsteins in total milk solids, fat, protein and lactose.

As you can see, crème fraîche production makes for a serious business. The French even have an award for the crème de la crème (and I mean that literally) of crème fraîche called the Appellation d’Origine Contrôlée label which was awarded to Isigny-sur-Mere, a commune (no kidding!) located in Normandy. So if you’re shopping in Europe hunt for crème fraîche d’Isigny.

What makes crème fraîche so special? According to Kendall Farms, crème fraîche is an ingredient, not simply a garnish. Aside from its distinctive taste and texture, crème fraîche has the distinction of not only having the ability to be whipped but also may be cooked to a boil without separating or curdling. As long as the heavy cream you used is at least 30% butterfat, the fat will prevent fusing of the milk proteins. The uses for this divine crème run the gamut from savory to sweet and everything in between.

Rose Levy Beranbaum thinks it’s wonderful in a ganache and uses it in scrambled eggs, chicken paprikash, potato salad, a finishing swirl in soups, and a dollop on pies and tarts. The epicurean magnum opus  Larousse Gastronomique reports that it can be combined with Calvados. Hmmm, sounds like the perfect embellishment for apple pie! Emma Christensen at The Kitchn suggests substituting crème fraîche, “for yogurt, sour cream, or even mayonnaise in most recipes.” Vermont Creamery, which manufactures a crème fraîche with 42% butterfat, whips it with honey and candied ginger to spice up the ubiquitous fruit pairing. Chase Blackwell outlines a number of recipes that spike crème fraîche with a variety of flavors. Eleven Madison Park apparently once conjured up a crème brûlée with it. And Regan Daley adds it to sauces and stews as well as alongside nearly everything made in a pastry kitchen. According to her, “Once you have tried it, I promise, you will find uses for it you never dreamed of…”. Personally, I may never go back to sour cream again.

As far as the recipe goes it’s pretty straight forward. Some sources recommend using pasteurized vs. ultra-pasteurized heavy cream. If you can find it, have at it. Ultra-pasteurized worked just fine for me since I’ve yet to come across a non-ultra version. As with anything in life, use the best quality ingredients you can afford. If you want check out Danlac or the New England Cheesemaking Supply Company for your very own bacterial cultures to go the mad scientist route with your crème fraîche.

From Baking with Julia:

Makes about 1 cup

1 cup heavy cream
1 tablespoon buttermilk

Put the heavy cream and buttermilk in a jar or container with a tight-fitting lid and shake it a couple of times to blend the two liquids. Let the jar sit at room temperature for 12 to 24 hours, or until it thickens. (Keep an eye on it: Crème fraîche will thicken faster in a warm room than a cool one.) Once thickened, chill the crème fraîche for at least 1 day before using. As it ages, the flavor will intensify and it will continue to thicken. Keeps anywhere between 2 to 4 weeks in the refrigerator.

I mentioned I was trying to think of ways to make my blog more interesting, and I thought, “Free goodies!” This morsel of brilliance came to me even before reading Predictably Irrational, which speaks of our irrational tendencies to the “Free!”. Not that I’m expecting a sect of Sugared Ellipses worshipers to pop up or anything, but this is just another tool in my arsenal to slowly take over the world…ha, ha, ha, ha, ha *maniacal laugh* Seriously though, I thought it might add a little spice to our lives.

Since we’re speaking of spices I thought I might give away some. I was in need of some fresh cinnamon since according to Nancy Silverton, “Once you’ve tasted freshly ground cinnamon sticks, you’ll never settle for preground cinnamon from a supermarket jar.” In the desire to test Ms. Silverton’s claim I decided to place an order for the cinnamon, as well as a plethora of other fall spices, with the renowned Penzeys spice company. Somewhere along the way in composing my final order I thought what better way to celebrate the warmth of this season than to give away some spices to warm the heart and the belly. Without further ado I am including:  

Whole Allspice
Ground Cinnamon (China Cassia)
Whole Madagascar Cloves
Ground Ginger
Ceylon Softstick Cinnamon (5″ Sticks)
Whole Nutmeg

In addition to that you’ll be the proud owner of a small ceramic loaf pan. The winner will be all “Ooo” and “Aaaah”-stounded by the surprise goodies that I’m sure will find their way into the box. If you’d like to enter to win, just create a link to the giveaway on your blog. Although not a requirement, (because hopefully trackbacks will be working properly!) the best way for me to know for sure that you’ve entered is to comment on this post. (Those of you who do not have a blog, contact me and we’ll work something out.) The last day you can enter will be December 15th at midnight Eastern Standard Time. The winner will be randomly selected and announced on December 16th. If you have any questions feel free to ask.

For those of you unfamiliar with Penzeys, the company has been a purveyor of high quality, fresh spices since 1957. The company’s first incarnation, started by Ruth and Bill Penzey, Sr., was as a spice and coffee store in Milwaukee, WI. With an attentive eye for customer needs, satisfying both the heart and the kitchen, Bill Penzey, Jr., transformed his parents fledgling business from a retail front, to mail order, to multiple retail outlets and mail order, with stores in over 20 states. Regardless of whether you’re endeavors are savory or sweet, Penzeys is bound to aid you in reaching new heights.

You’ve gotta love a company whose perspective on business is, “We have tried to build our business on these feelings of caring that we see every day in our customers. We know that if you want to get people to cook you have to show them the value in it and we are pretty convinced the real value is in the lifetime of relationships it creates.”

Do stay tuned because throughout the coming weeks I will be presenting lots of information on these fall spices and recipes that highlight each of them.

*I felt the need to state that this giveaway is not sponsored by the Penzeys company in any way. I wanted to have an event like this, and decided that their spices would make a nice gift.

Here we go again. I wonder if I will ever be able to bake something without having a step go horribly wrong or dropping something on the floor.

Yesterday I was trying to make those Brown Butter Madeleines I mentioned in my other post. I read through the directions at least twice. I got all ingredients ready to go. Saucepan and butter in hand, I started to brown my butter.

Note to self: DO NOT HAVE TV ON WHILE BROWNING BUTTER  

I had to brown my butter not one, not two but three, three! times! That’s the kind of dufus baker I am. Another baking tip when it comes to butter browning … seconds count. Seriously. I found that out in attempt #2.

The recipe did say that it would take about twenty minutes, and with medium heat – and NO swirling, stirring, nada! Maybe my stove runs a little high, but it sure as heck wasn’t anything close to twenty minutes before the bottom started to get black and small wisps of smoke started to rise up. I stuck my nose in and asked myself, “Is that a nutty aroma? It doesn’t smell nutty to me. It smells burnt.”

Look, I’m new to this whole thing. I didn’t even know you could brown butter. So after this first botched attempt I decided to see if I could find some detailed directions. There just had to be something I was missing (besides being somewhat neglectful, though it still wasn’t twenty minutes, it wasn’t even ten I tell you, not even close!) I went through every baking book that I own looking for some precise information on the apparent art of browning butter and found next to nothing.

Cookwise zip (despite this I totally LOVE this book). While The Elements of Cooking had a nice description of what brown butter is which was nice to know. Apparently the process of heating the butter separates and evaporates the milk solids from the butterfat turning them brown. The closest thing to an actual technique was described was under the Beurre noir and Beurre noisette entry.  Beurre noir is also known as black butter, a sauce terrific for fish that includes lemon juice, capers and parsley.  Beurre noisette translating to “hazelnut butter” is the more well known brown butter with its unique nutty aroma. According to the Elements of Cooking, “The trick with making a brown butter sauce is to recognize the right color and aroma…” Sure, no problem. Like I know how to recognize the right color and aroma seeing as I’ve never made it before. Unfortunately I found out all this stuff too late. According to this article at Chow, I could have actually saved my “black butter” to use as beurre noir. I, being the impetuous thing that I am, already threw it out.

So, my beloved tomes of knowledge were all a let down. Even Martha left me in the lurch. The closest thing I found to what I should be doing was in Nancy Silverton’s Pastries from the La Brea Bakery. Her method is:

In a medium saucepan over high heat, begin to melt the butter. Swirl the pan to ensure the butter cooks evenly and doesn’t bun. It will bubble somewhat vigorously as it browns. Continue cooking 3 to 5 minutes until the bubbles subside and the liquid is dark brown with a nutty, toasty aroma.

Ah-ha! SWIRLING. What a novel idea. So on to attempt #2. Everything was going like gangbusters. I started it on a lower heat, constantly swirling. The butter was slowly but surely starting to take on a deeper and deeper honey color hue. But that cursed TV distracted me. I don’t even know what it was, but I stepped away from the stove for not more than three seconds, I swear! And while I could still actually smell a hint of that legendary nutty aroma, it had already begun to be marred by the three seconds I had given it to burn.

So lesson #1 was swirling. Great technique, and really made a difference the second time. I think I’ve learned the secret to browning butter. Well, that and paying attention. Yes, lesson #2 … you must pay attention. The third, thank the power of Grayskull (yep, I was a fan of He-Man, but She-Ra was my fav. Now you can guess how old I am), and final time I tried to brown this butter was at last a success. I swirled constantly and even stirred with a spoon once in a while for good measure. While the old adage that a watched pot never boils may be true, it TOTALLY does not apply here. I kept a watchful eye and actually experienced the moment when the butter began to give off the ever ellusive “nutty aroma” … it does, I promise.

After all that what do I have to say about browned butter? IT ROCKS! I swear this stuff is the most awesome … the … the … Just use it. I’m not all that confident with my ability to come up with my own recipes yet, but I think this would be awesome in some kind of chocolate chip cookie. I’m going to have to tinker. Maybe there’s a recipe out there. I want to use this stuff on everything.

I realize that this epic tale of the quest to brown butter may be laughable to all you veteran bakers (and maybe some, hopefully not all, novices) but I’m happy because I did learn something on this adventure and discovered one of the flavors that makes life worth living.

No, I’m not making a perfume recommendation here. Unfortunately when I was making the Orange-Cardamom Madeleines the other day I became aware of the fact that the large tub full of confectioners sugar I have has a perfume aftertaste.

I wish I had something more concrete to tell everyone, but this is all I got from the manufacturer:

Sugar is good indefinitely, but it can absorb odors when stored next to other types of products.  It is possible that the sugar you purchased was stored either in the store or at the retailers warehouse next to or near an item that has a perfume type odor.  They have stated that this is not harmful however it may cause the sugar to have an off flavor.

I don’t think the bag of sugar tasted this way from the get go, and the container I have it in was clean and had no strange odors to start with. Where did I go wrong? Maybe it was funny tasting from the beginning and for some reason I didn’t notice it when I used it last. I used to to dust some pecan sandy cookies and they tasted fine, but then the cookie itself was the main flavor contributor in my mouth. Maybe if I hadn’t sampled the glaze by itself before actually putting it on the madeleines I would have never noticed. I don’t know.

Has anyone ever had this experience? Is it possible that there’s some strange chemical reaction from putting it in a plastic container? Inquiring minds want to know.