“I remember making those!”
I had a tray of pâte à choux shells resting on top of the stove; the kids were immediately reminded of the lesson in which we made cream puffs.
“Do you guys also remember when I told you that pâte à choux is kind of like a Lego brick in the pastry kitchen? That it can be used to make lots of other things?”
We gathered around the iPad to take a look at examples of some of those things.
“What’s a Lady’s Navel?!”
“Or a Moooor kop?”
They were intrigued by the funny sounding pastries, and even more excited about the one we would be making that day — the Religiuese.
I’ve heard a couple of different explanations of the pastry, whose name means “Nun.” The first theory is that it is supposed to represent the papal mitre; the other interpretation describes the similarity in the pastry’s appearance to a nun’s habit. I’ll let you be the judge.
I had baked the choux cases that morning so that we could have plenty of time to focus on making the filling, the chocolate glaze, and assembling the pastries.
Traditionally religiuese are filled with mocha pastry cream, but I thought it would be better if we went with vanilla. While us moms can always use the coffee, the kids definitely didn’t need any caffeine.
“Pastry cream is another building block in the kitchen. You can use it as a filling for cakes, tarts, and all kinds of different pastries. You can thin it and use it as a sauce. You can even turn it into a soufflé.”
They measured the milk and salt into a heavy-bottomed pot, then placed the cornstarch and sugar into a bowl.
Finally, they whisked the eggs into the dry ingredients to make a slurry.
Vocabulary word for the day — slurry.
I explained that pastry cream is a custard, which means it is a liquid that has been cooked and thickened or set by eggs. They considered other things that might be custards: pudding, cheesecake, pumpkin pie filling, and ice cream.
“What happens when you heat up eggs?” I asked.
“They get clumpy?”
“Right! They cook and become solid. But too high or too long a heat will overcook them. We don’t want clumpy, lumpy custard, so we have to treat them gently. Otherwise you get scrambled eggs.”
We checked our mise en place for making pastry cream: we had a mesh strainer suspended over a bowl that would hold the finished custard, a ladle, and a damp towel that we wrapped around the base of our mixing bowl to keep it in place.
“Like a little nest?”
“Right!” I agreed. A little nest to hold our bowl of egg-slurry.
We moved over to the stove and began heating the milk.
“Milk can scorch, or burn, really easily. And once you scorch it, the whole pot will taste burnt. So we’ll use a spatula to gently stir the milk as it’s heating.”
I also advised that they keep a close eye on any dairy heating on the stove, as it has a tendency to boil-over pretty quickly. I cranked up the heat for a minute to demonstrate and they watched the milk race towards the top of the pot.
“That went fast!”
We turned off the heat and let the milk settle.
“What do you think would happen if we poured the eggs directly into this really hot pot?”
“Would they scramble?”
“So,” I continued, “we use a method called tempering, where we introduce a little bit of the hot liquid into the eggs to heat them gradually. Once we’ve added about half of the milk to the bowl, we’ll pour everything back into the pot to finish cooking.”
They took turns adding the milk to the eggs, using one hand to ladle, the other to whisk.
“It’s kind of like rubbing your head and patting your tummy at the same time.”
The kids traded off whisking the mixture over medium heat.
I showed them how to work the whisk around the pot, making sure to scrape the entire bottom surface, including the edges.
We watched for big bubbles, a sign that the custard had come to a boil.
“The starch and sugar will keep the eggs from overcooking, to a point, but if we let it go too long the custard can become grainy.”
When we were sure the cream had come to a boil, we immediately strained it into a clean bowl.
They added vanilla and butter, one tablespoon at a time, to the pastry cream.
“Can we taste it?!”
They all promised not to double-dip, so…
I beat back the advancing spoons, placed a piece of plastic wrap directly on the surface of the remaining pastry cream, and popped it into the fridge to cool.
Now for the chocolate.
“Ganache is another good thing to have in your baking ‘tool box’. You can use it to fill, frost, and glaze cakes or pastries, but you can also let it cool completely and make truffles.”
“What else is in it besides chocolate?” someone asked.
“Cream. That’s it. The only thing you need to worry about is having the proper chocolate to cream ratio for whatever you will be using the ganache for.”
Another vocabulary word — ratio.
“If we have 4 ounces of chocolate and need a ratio of 1 part chocolate to 1 part cream, how much cream would we need?”
“Right! And if we needed a ratio of 1 part chocolate to 2 parts cream, we would need…”
I showed them how to use a serrated knife to cut small, uniform pieces of chocolate. It had been awhile since we worked on knife skills, but they quickly caught on.
We brought our cream to a bare simmer, poured it over the chopped chocolate, waited a few minutes, then stirred it together. Easy peasy.
It was time to assemble the religuese.
I pulled out a batch of pastry cream that I had made the night before, and we filled up a piping bag.
“Remember, don’t squeeze it from the middle!”
They each filled two choux shells, one large and one small.
We took turns dunking the tops in the glossy ganache.
Finally, they piped circles of whipped cream on top of the larger puffs, then set the smaller puffs on top.
“Can I pipe a little hat?”
“They look like snowmen!”
I wasn’t sure about a papal mitre or a nun, but I did see a happy little clown. Sadly, we had to eat him.
All of the components for the religuese, except the whipped cream, can be made in advance.
Pâté à Choux recipe (Bake two sizes)
Ganache recipe (We used equal parts of 60% chocolate and heavy cream, see recipe link for alternate percentages)
Yield 2 1/2 cups
2 c (16 oz) Whole milk
1/4 t Salt
4 T Cornstarch
1/2 c (4 oz) Sugar
2 Large eggs
4 T (2 oz) Unsalted butter, cut into 1 T pieces
1 t Vanilla extract
Have a bowl ready for the finished pastry cream, with a mesh sieve resting on top. Place the milk and salt in a heavy saucepan and heat to just under a boil, stirring occasionally. Meanwhile, in a mixing bowl, whisk the cornstarch and sugar together, then add the eggs and whisk until smooth. Wrap a damp kitchen towel around the base of the bowl to keep it from sliding around. When the milk is ready, begin ladling the hot milk into the egg mixture, whisking constantly. When about half of the milk has been incorporated, pour the egg-milk mixture back into the pot and continue whisking over medium heat until it just comes to a boil, (you will see some slow bubbles that do not stop after whisking). Immediately remove from heat and pour through the strainer into the bowl. If at this point the cream looks slightly curdled, an immersion blender or countertop blender can be used to smooth the texture. Let cool for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. Whisk the butter into the pastry cream one tablespoon at a time, always whisking until smooth before the next addition. Whisk in the vanilla. Cover the custard with plastic wrap, pressing the wrap directly onto the surface of the cream to prevent a skin from forming. Cool completely before using. Do not whisk the cream once it has set to avoid breaking down the starch and thinning the custard. Pastry cream will keep in the refrigerator for up to 5 days.