My heaven on a plate: Profiteroles with a Double-Creamy Blue-Cheese Filling

Wicked, decadent and sinful hardly begin to describe these dreamy little puffs, which are so packed with calories that you might as well skip eating them and strap them directly to your thighs and bottom*. But hell, Christmas is coming, so why not go ahead and indulge? Besides - if you're in my frame of mind (and body) - there are going to be slim pickings indeed come January.

This recipe, which I finally wrestled to the floor last week after several failed attempts, is all wound up with my personal history as a devoted lover of food.

Let me explain. Do you remember something utterly delicious that you ate as a child or teenager; something that turned your knees to jelly and filled your eyes with tears? I had two such tasting epiphanies in my early years.

The second was when I tasted Boursin cheese with garlic on a trip to Paris when I was fifteen (but more about that in a future post). The first, also involving cheese, was a few years earlier, when I reached into the fridge and sunk my teeth into a little puffy ball filled with a chilled, creamy mixture that tasted, frankly, of heaven. I believe I might have given out a low whimper: there were choirs of angels, and beams of celestial light fell through the kitchen windows.

Okay, I exaggerate, but the memory of tasting those little beauties remains as clear as day.

I reached back into the fridge, and had another one. And another. And another. Within a few minutes, I'd demolished most of the savoury profiteroles my mother had bought for some special occasion. She was furious with me: 'How could you eat so many?' she asked. 'You might have left one or two for the rest of us!'

'I just couldn't help myself, Ma,' I told her, wiping the crumbs off my bulging cheeks, and that was the honest truth.

My mum hasn't any memory of this event, so she was not able to help when I asked her if she recalled what was in those little puffs. At that tender age, I didn't have a library of tastes to draw upon, so in recreating the recipe I've had to take a guess, using my more experienced adult palate.

And, do you know what? I believe that what I was tasting was either blue cheese, or camembert, or very likely both.

In my most recent attempts, I've tried a combination of creamy blue cheese and camembert, and I've also tried using Brie. The mixture tasted right, but the the filling was a little oily and stiff. So I've abandoned the camembert, and come up with a silken mixture of blue cheese, cream cheese and whipped cream that is as close as I think I'll ever get.

I presume that whoever created these intended them to be served at room temperature, with a crispy outer shell and a soft and fluffy filling. But, for me, these are perfect eaten cold, somewhat soggy on the outside, and straight from the fridge. With bulging cheeks.

As choux pastry is quite tricky to get right, I've given detailed instructions below. Please measure the ingredients exactly (and see Cook's Notes, below).

For best results, a good-quality creamy blue cheese and a thick, full-fat cream cheese are essential. I used Lancewood's lovely plain cream cheese, and a Simonsberg creamy blue.




Profiteroles with a Double-Creamy Blue-Cheese Filling

For the profiteroles:
1 cup (250 ml) cake flour
a large pinch of salt
125 g salted butter (this is a quarter of a 500-gram block of butter)
1 cup (250 ml) water
4 extra-large free range eggs

For the filling:
130 g creamy blue cheese
1 cup (250 ml) whipping [single] cream
one tub (240 g) full-fat cream cheese, at room temperature
freshly milled black pepper

First make the profiteroles.

Preheat the oven to 180º C. Line a baking sheet with a piece of greaseproof paper. Sift the flour and salt into a little bowl, or onto a sheet of paper. Put the butter and the water into a large saucepan and set over a brisk heat. When the mixture begins to boil rapidly, remove the pan from the heat. Immediately tip the sifted flour and salt, all in one go, into the butter/water mixture. Stir energetically with a wooden spoon, and return to the heat. Turn down the heat and cook, stirring vigorously and continuously, for one to two minutes, or until the mixture forms a ball that comes cleanly away from the sides of the pan.

Take the pan off the heat and allow to cool for five minutes, or until just warm to the touch. Now beat in the whole eggs, one at a time, beating hard after each addition. Once you've added the fourth egg, you should have a glossy and thick - though slightly slack - mixture. Pile the mixture into a large piping bag fitted with a big plain nozzle, and pipe blobs the size of a litchi onto the baking paper (or use a teaspoon to make neat little dollops).

Put the baking sheet into the hot oven and bake for 25-35 minutes (depending on the ferocity of your oven) until well risen, golden brown and crisp. Turn off the oven, open the door, and allow the profiteroles to dry out for 10 minutes. Remove the profiteroles from the oven and turn them onto their sides. Use a piping nozzle (or the handle-end of a wooden spoon) to poke a hole into the bottom of each one. Set aside to cool completely.


In the meantime make the filling. Crumble the blue cheese into a saucepan, and add half (125 ml) of the cream. Place over a gentle flame and heat through, stirring often as the cheese melts. Do not allow to boil. When all the cheese has melted, remove the pan from the heat and set aside to cool for a few minutes.

Place the cream cheese in a large bowl, add the warm blue cheese mixture and, using a metal spoon, stir furiously until the mixture is smooth and well combined. Whip the remaining half-cup (125 ml) of cream to a soft peak, then stir it lightly into the blue cheese mixture. If the mixture seems a little stiff, don't worry: persist with gentle stirring, and it will all come together Season with a few grindings of black pepper. Cover and set aside, at room temperature.

Wash and dry your piping bag and fit a medium nozzle to it. Fill the piping bag with the blue cheese mixture. Poke the nozzle into the underside of each profiterole and squeeze in just enough of the cheese mixture to fill the cavity.

Serve immediately with a dab of wine jelly. Or - please trust me on this - put them in the fridge for a couple of hours, or until the filling is firm.

Makes 12 large profiteroles, or 18 small ones


Cook's Notes

• Choux pastry, although easy to make, is a little temperamental, and you can really only learn from experience when the batter is of a perfect consistency. Much depends on the flour you're using and the size of your eggs. Measure all the ingredients exactly, and follow the instructions above to the letter.
• If your first batch of choux pastry doesn't turn out well, don't be discouraged. Try again!  Perfect choux buns are light and crispy, hollow on the inside, and have a soft golden-brown colour.  

* With apologies to a friend of my sister's, who came up with the idea of strapping fatty foods directly to your backside.

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Smoked Venison with Cream Cheese, Horseradish and White Pepper

This is a heavenly combination: paper-thin smoked venison, fresh horseradish, cream cheese and white pepper, all bought together with a tart, sweet pomegranate reduction. Look, I know this recipe has some unusual ingredients - including pomegranate syrup, which I couldn't fit into the title - but I promise you won't regret the effort it takes to find them.

A sweet, tart pomegranate syrup brings everything together.

This is a quick and easy dish that is ideal for serving, with some biscuits or melba toast, as a snack with drinks. Use a good, full-fat cream cheese. I used Lancewood Cream Cheese, but Philadelphia, or similar, will do nicely. Whatever you choose, make sure the cheese is very thick, and stiff enough easily to hold its shape.

[Postscript, 2 September 2013: Do try this recipe using my drained maas (amasi) cheese!]

I think white pepper is a most undervalued and underused ingredient, with a marvellous flavour quite distinct from that of the ubiquitous freshly ground black pepper. It's quite a strong spice, though, so add just a pinch at a time, tasting the mixture as you go along.

I used fresh horseradish (see my latest horseradish recipe here, and tips for preserving it in olive oil, and freezing it, here) but you could, at a push, used the creamed, bottled variety (in which case use a little less olive oil).

Any sort of lightly smoked venison, sliced paper-thin like carpaccio, will do for this recipe: ask your butcher. I've also made this with smoked salmon and smoked beef.

Pomegranate reduction is available in good delis, and at Woolies.  If you can't find it, use a sharp fruit jelly, or a wine jelly, or any sweet, zingy sauce.

The little leaves strewn on the top of this dish are mustard sprouts, but you can add any crunchy leafy topping of your choice.

Smoked Venison with Cream Cheese, Horseradish and White Pepper

one tub (250g) full-fat cream cheese
2 tsp (10 ml) fresh horseradish, peeled and very finely grated
½ tsp (2.5 ml) white pepper
about 2 tsp (10 ml) olive oil
salt, to taste
6 slices paper-thin smoked venison 'carpaccio'
a handful of mustard sprouts, or baby herb leaves
1 T (15 ml) pomegranate reduction
a little extra oil for greasing the mould

Put the cream cheese, horseradish and white pepper in a bowl and, using a wooden spoon, beat well to combine. Add just enough olive oil to to create a rather stiff, smooth mixture.  Season with salt to taste.

Lightly grease the inside of a ramekin dish, teacup or similar mould (capacity about 1 cup/250 ml) with a little olive oil.  Neatly line the mould with slices of venison, pressing it well into the sides and base and allowing the slices to overlap the edges by 4-5 cm. Spoon the cream cheese mixture into the mould, and press down with the back of a spoon.

Fold the overlapping slices of venison over the top of the cream cheese, cover with a piece of clingfilm [saran wrap] and press down firmly to eliminate any air bubbles. Now turn the mould over into the cupped palm of your hand, and deliver a few smart smacks to its base.  If you can't release it, run a sharp knife around its edges. Slide onto a small clean plate. Trickle the pomegranate syrup over the base of the plate. Top with the mustard sprouts. Serve with biscuits or melba toast.

Serves 4 as a snack


Cook's Notes:

• This keeps well in the fridge for a day. Cover it, still in its mould, with clingfilm, and add the sprouts and pomegranate reduction just before you serve it.
• If you don't have a suitable mould, turn this into a 'sausage': lightly grease a piece of clingfilm, and cover with overlapping slices of venison. Spread the cream cheese, in a stripe, at the edge closest to you. Pick up the leading edge of the clingfilm and carefully roll, away from you, into a neat tube (as you would if you were making sushi rolls).  Twist the ends of the clingfilm to make a tight, narrow Christmas-cracker shape.  Place in the fridge for a few hours.  Remove the clingfilm and, using a very sharp knife or unscented dental floss (yes, really!), slice into neat discs.

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Henna-Patterned Spiced Cream Cheese

A stencil designed for applying henna to hands and feet is what I used to create the pattern on this block of cream cheese, which is spiced with sumac and fragrant curry powder, with a little turmeric and paprika for colour. Doesn't it look beautiful and whimsical?

Cream cheese stencilled with spices.

The idea for this came to me in the middle of the night, as I lay awake thinking - as I usually do - about food and recipes. In particular, I was mulling over the Four-Pepper Cream Cheese I posted recently on this blog. It was tasty enough, with its four stripes of different peppers, but it just didn't look as pretty as I'd envisaged.  So I set my sleepless mind to this task: how could I create a delicate and interesting design of spices on a cheese?  I knew a stencil of some sort was needed, but the only ones I had were big acetate wall stencils from the 1980s - do you recall that era of ragrolling, sponging, stippling and stencilling? -  and my treasured stash of old-fashioned paper doilies.

Then I remembered - hallelujah!- that I'd bought a pack of henna stencils, from one of Johannesburg's Chinese markets, a year or so back.  They were perfect for the job, being light, flexible, slightly sticky and cut with great precision.

You can use any cream cheese for this, provided that it comes in a block firm enough to be stencilled. I used Lancewood's Superior Cream Cheese; if you can't find this, use Philadelphia Cream Cheese.  Any combination of your favourite spices will do, as long as they are ground finely enough to create even coverage: I used a slightly darker blend of spices on the edges of the cheese.  Ask for henna stencils at your local Asian market or spice shop, or order them online.

Before I put the stencils in place, I smoothed the top of the cheese with a warm knife to erase the brand name, which is - annoyingly - embossed on top. The top was stencilled first, and then I turned the cheese on one long edge and stencilled the sides one by one.

I imagine these stencils would be lovely to use, with cinnamon, on top of an unbaked cheesecake.

I served this with salty crackers, crunchy little gherkins and some sweet chilli sauce. Print Friendly

Chilli Snoek Pâté: a taste of Hout Bay

Please admire the little double-walled amuse-bouche dish,
 from a bespoke set of dinnerware made for a famous Franschhoek
 restaurant by my uncle, master potter David Walters.

Few tastes capture Cape Town as delightfully as smoked snoek pâté.  When you visit Cape Town you will find this noble fish - an honoured staple for centuries - virtually everywhere you go along the coast.

You'll see fishing boats avalanching their silvery cargos of fresh snoek onto the quayside at little working harbours, you'll see it it vlekked (gutted and splayed) on drying frames, you'll see it sold in oaked-smoked fillets, you'll see smoorsnoek, and you'll see it sizzling over braai fires.   You're most likely, though, if you're a casual visitor to the city, to encounter it in the form of a salty, smoky pâté.

Today I spent a happy hour in the kitchen with my darling friend Claire (here from Jo'burg for the weekend), concocting our visisticated version of this dish. Claire was driven in a taxi from the airport to her brother's fabulous flat in Kalk Bay, and was inspired by a discussion she had with the driver and his wife. Just outside Muizenberg, they passed racks of golden snoek drying in the sun, and the conversation turned to recipes for preparing the fish.  The driver and his wife told Claire stories of  being put to work as children by their grandmothers: their task was to pound fresh red chillies and deboned salted snoek together in a mortar; the resulting paste was spread on bread.

After a walk on the beach this morning, and a sinful bockwurst roll at Muriel's Munchies, we  picked up a package of  oak-smoked snoek at Hout Bay harbour, gathered chillies, coriander and lemons on the way home and set to work producing snoek pâté, only better - with pounded chillies.

 Please do not be put off by the fact that this recipe contains a whole red chilli.  When you first taste it, you may be alarmed and think your mouth has caught fire.  But, given four hours in the fridge, this pâté mellows  and the chilli fades, leaving just a tingle.

You can pound these ingredients together with a mortar and pestle in the old-fashioned way, or use a food processor fitted with a metal blade. The important thing here is not to over-process the pâté: it should not be whizzed to a silken paste, but retain some texture.

Chilli Snoek Pâté: a Taste of Hout Bay

250 g oak-smoked snoek [or any similar smoked white fish]
1 red chilli, halved and deseeded
a big pinch of coarse salt
half a clove of fresh peeled garlic
½  tsp (5 ml) finely grated lemon zest
2 Tbsp (30 ml) soft butter
3 Tbsp (45 ml) crème fraîche
milled black pepper
1 Tbsp (15 ml) finely chopped fresh coriander [cilantro]

Flake the fish into a small bowl and remove all bones. Put the chilli into a small mortar with the salt and garlic; pound to paste. If you don't have a mortar, finely chop the chilli and garlic and mash into a paste with the salt using the back of a spoon or a knife. Set aside.

Scrape the chilli and garlic paste into the bowl of a food processor fitted with a metal blade. Add the flaked fish and all remaining ingredients. Pulse lightly to combine without pulverising the fish. Tip the mixture into a little bowl and refrigerate for three to four hours.

Serve with sliced wholewheat seed loaf or crackers.

Serves 6 as an appetiser or dip.


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10-minute Phyllo Tartlets: instant, no-hassle party snack

I've been a bit sniffy about phyllo pastry since its heydays in the 80s, when everything including the cat was wrapped in great billowing flounces of the blasted stuff, and you ended up feeling as if you'd eaten the bottom half of a hamster cage. But phyllo really is very useful and convenient: it's not fatty, it bakes in a jiffy, and its neutral taste makes it the perfect casing material for all sorts of zingy ingredients. The secret with phyllo is, I think, to use it fairly sparingly, and to strenuously avoid the temptation to crumple it up or tie it into parcels or purses.

You really can prepare these easy bites in ten minutes, provided that you have the fillings on hand, and you use spray-on olive oil. They're hugely versatile because you can use so many different fillings, in appropriate combinations. They bake in under 7 minutes, and are economical too: you can get 24 tartlets out of just four sheets of phyllo pastry.

You can, of course, use melted butter or olive oil, or a combination, to brush between the layers, but this will take longer.

I usually make these with Gorgonzola and sliced leeks softened in a little butter. The ones in the picture contain Roquefort and a delicious green-olive and artichoke salsa I bought today at the Jozi Food Market; some are filled with fresh ricotta, cherry tomatoes and Woolies pesto.

Suggested fillings:
brie, camembert, ricotta, or any soft cheese, crème fraîche, blue cheese, Parmesan, mozzarella, cherry tomatoes, sun-dried tomatoes, olives, tofu, pesto, sautéed onions or leeks, pine nuts, roast butternut, cooked mushrooms, steamed asparagus tips, tinned artichoke hearts, figs, herbs, garlic.

10-minute Phyllo Tartlets
4 sheets phyllo pastry
spray-on olive oil*, or olive oil in an sprayer
a little extra olive oil for sprinkling
salt and milled black pepper

Preheat the oven to 170° C. Put a large piece of greaseproof paper or clingfilm on the counter. Take one sheet of pastry (cover the rest with a damp tea towel) and place it on the paper. Spray a film of olive oil evenly all over the sheet, and cover with another sheet of pastry. Make sure that all your kitchen windows are open and don't inhale the olive oil! Continue layering and spraying until you've used up all four sheets. Now, with the tip of a very sharp knife, a round pizza cutter, or a pair of scissors, cut the sheet into 24 squares. If you'd like deeper tartlet cases, and fewer of them, make the squares bigger (but do put more filling in, so that your guests don't end up eating acres of dry pastry).

Pick up each stacked square, spray its underside with a little olive oil, and tuck it into the bottom of a muffin tin. Fill each case with your chosen filling. Sprinkle a little olive oil over the filling and season with salt and pepper.

Bake at 170°C for 5-7 minutes, but watch them like a hawk. The trick is to get the centre hot and melted, without the outer bits going too brown.

Serve hot.

Notes:

- If you like, you can dust a little seasoned salt or Parmesan between the layers.

- To make rewrapping your unused pastry easier, unroll it at the beginning onto a sheet of greaseproof paper or clingfilm. When you're finished, fold it in half, and roll it up in the paper or clingfilm, twisting the ends like a cracker. Store in the fridge.

- Brush a little beaten egg white over the outer edges for really crisp and golden finish.

- * I use Antonio's Extra-Virgin Olive Oil Spray.

Makes 24 tartlets. Print Friendly