Hamlet may well have said "something is rotten in the state of Denmark" but perhaps if he'd spent less time worrying about his Mum's sex-life and more time eating Danish pastries he might not have been so morose.
I was very excited about this month's challenge. Although Danish pastries aren't my bakery treat of choice (bring on the iced fingers) learning to make them would be a chance to acquire a real skill. I had visions of making traditional swirls full of juicy raisins and topped with a light glace icing, but our challengers told us we had to make a plait. Kelly and Ben suggested using an apple filling but I decided to stuff my plait with frangipane and poached pears. Yum.
As with many yeast recipes, making the pastry dough was time consuming but not labour intensive. Once you've completed the first dough stage you complete four 'turns' of the pastry sandwiching a big block of butter in between the folds of the dough. Yes, the big block of butter - that's why Danish pastries aren't Weight Watchers friendly. That said, the dough is flavoured with orange and cardamon so there must be some useful vitamins in there somewhere.
Ben suggested putting the flour on the surface and tipping the eggy, yeasty, milky liquid into a well in the middle. Hmmmm. All I can say is that bloody Ben must have a bloody degree in engineering because when I tipped my liquid into the centre of my (high-sided and artfully constructed) well all I got was this (believe me, this was only the start):
While my dough chilled I made a simple almond cream and poached some pears. By this time it was nearly midnight so I left everything in the fridge and took my sticky self to bed. The next day I started the assembly process. I was a bit nervous about the plaiting, but a mis-spent youth preparing ponies' tails for gymkhanas stood me in good stead.
This month Kelly of Sass & Veracity and Ben of What’s Cookin’? challenged us to make a Danish Braid using the proper laminated Danish pastry dough. As Kelly and Ben explained to us, Danish pastry dough is a yeast-leavened dough from the same family as puff pastry which basically means it contains lots and lots of butter.
I was very excited about this month's challenge. Although Danish pastries aren't my bakery treat of choice (bring on the iced fingers) learning to make them would be a chance to acquire a real skill. I had visions of making traditional swirls full of juicy raisins and topped with a light glace icing, but our challengers told us we had to make a plait. Kelly and Ben suggested using an apple filling but I decided to stuff my plait with frangipane and poached pears. Yum.
As with many yeast recipes, making the pastry dough was time consuming but not labour intensive. Once you've completed the first dough stage you complete four 'turns' of the pastry sandwiching a big block of butter in between the folds of the dough. Yes, the big block of butter - that's why Danish pastries aren't Weight Watchers friendly. That said, the dough is flavoured with orange and cardamon so there must be some useful vitamins in there somewhere.
I had a rare evening with the house to myself so I was able to make the dough in peace with only the Wicked soundtrack (turned up loud) to accompany me (I have the music tastes of a camp old man). Unfortunately I don't have a stand mixer yet (one day darling pistachio KitchenAid you will be mine) so I had to follow Ben's instructions for making the dough by hand.
Ben suggested putting the flour on the surface and tipping the eggy, yeasty, milky liquid into a well in the middle. Hmmmm. All I can say is that bloody Ben must have a bloody degree in engineering because when I tipped my liquid into the centre of my (high-sided and artfully constructed) well all I got was this (believe me, this was only the start):
Yes at 10:00pm on a Saturday night to the sounds of Defying Gravity I found myself leaning across the counter trying to stem the eggy flow with my chest. Fingers webbed with dough, I cursed Ben and all the lucky people with mixers. Most of all I cursed myself. I knew this would happen. I should have trusted my instincts and just used a bowl. Ah well, I'm sure for some people, dough encrusted breasts are a turn-on.
While my dough chilled I made a simple almond cream and poached some pears. By this time it was nearly midnight so I left everything in the fridge and took my sticky self to bed. The next day I started the assembly process. I was a bit nervous about the plaiting, but a mis-spent youth preparing ponies' tails for gymkhanas stood me in good stead.
I left the plait to prove while I faffed around doing Sunday morning chores. Unfortunately I faffed for a little too long and the dough was perhaps a little too puffy. If I was being mean i would say it resembled Mr AB's cheeks after his wisdom teeth removal, but I'm a supportive girlfriend so wouldn't be so cruel (tee hee).
The finished result was excellent. I'm not sure the pastry was as flaky as it should have been, but filled with the frangipane and pears it was particularly moreish. In the end I put half of it in the freezer just to stop myself from slivering it every time I walked past. I would definitely recommend trying the pastry as it isn't as daunting as you might expect and there's something very satisfying about presenting homemade pastries to your loved ones.
Be sure to look at the other plaits here and if you fancy trying the dough yourself you can get the recipe here.
When everything looks so good it's hard not to fill your basket.
(don't you wish you were a broad bean - look at that downy blanket they're nestled against!)
I'll cook the potatoes with a handful of mint and some melted butter 
and the asparagus with some soft scrambled eggs. 
Maybe summer isn't so bad after all.
Since I've been back people have been curious to know what Cuba is like. My standard phrase is that it is a place "full of contradictions". It seems that the hackneyed stories are true: a waiter can earn more than a doctor and while people had just been permitted to buy mobile phones, few would be able to afford them. More than one Cuban I spoke to derided America and Britain as imperialist hell-holes, yet others (mostly the younger ones) cursed the government and paraded around in t-shirts emblazoned with the Stars and Stripes.
and the flower sellers who take their blooms from door to door:
I could never live somewhere like Cuba (imagine trying to do a Daring Bakers challenge with the limited ingredients?!). However, it was so refreshing to escape the constant demands to buy buy buy or to see children playing happily without an X-box in sight. 
