NdM (Nougat de Montelimar)
If you’re like most people, nougat is almost a joke. It sounds funny when you say it (nu-git) and it’s nothing but the shit you have to get through before you hit the caramel in a Milky Way.
If you’re like most people, nougat is almost a joke. It sounds funny when you say it (nu-git) and it’s nothing but the shit you have to get through before you hit the caramel in a Milky Way.
But this nougat is pronounced nu-gah and it is no joke.
Twenty years ago I took a trip to France, and while there I visited a candy store. Now, let me erase the vision in your head of what you think a candy store is and paint a different picture. Imagine a room 30 feet deep and half as wide. It’s soaked in April sunlight which gleams off its marble floors. The tiles, though clean enough to eat from, have softened edges from decades of foot traffic. Through a door to a back room, you see copper kettles, each the size of a Prius. The air is filled with the scent of sugar and honey and chocolate and toasted almonds.
You approach a glass cabinet, filled with confections you do not recognize. Each one is a precious gem, a work of art. This is a palace of the sugar arts. A museum where the art is for sale and you can shove it in your face. This is a French candy shop.
This is what I walked into on that April day, and my mind was blown. I bought one of everything. Each one I ate, I admired its form, analyzed the flavors, puzzled over its ingredients. Each new morsel transported me to a rarified plane.
I thought of previous empty calories wasted on insipid flavors and vowed “Never again. No fucking way.” My life had changed.
Of all the the treats I sampled, one stood apart. It was called Nougat de Montelimar, a confection made with honey, whipped egg whites, and almonds. It became a bit of an obsession.
During the ensuing months, I tried to find it for sale in the US and couldn’t. I tried to find recipes online. This was twenty years ago, when there were two food blogs in existence and neither one had done Nougat. I came up similarly empty in my search of cookbooks. But I did find a recipe for torrone - a similar Italian candy, albeit with a slightly different consistency. In fact, I learned that there are many versions of this confection. Like many completely-fucking-amazing culinary discoveries, it spread from one place to the next, adopting unique local nuances along the way.
The Italians have torrone, the French nougat, the Spanish turón. The recipe spread to Europe via the Middle East, but may have even more ancient origins in central Asia.
I started trying things. That recipe for torrone? Too hard (texture-wise, not difficulty level). Plus it lacked a crucial component of NdM: lavender honey. I experimented more. I found a blog on the science of candy and learned some things about sucrose and dextrose, the Maillard reaction, sugar solutions and the water content at different temperatures.
One of the hitches was texture. The NdM I had had cracked if you bit into it fast, and chewed if you bit slowly. And at mouth temperature, it was all chewy and melty, with those crunchy bits of toasted nuts in the mix. Clearly some sort of sorcery was at work.
I’ll spare you the minute by minute description of the next three years. Suffice it to say that I mad a LOT of candy and tried a LOT of things until finally I got the taste right, and lo and behold, I had finally gotten a handle on that elusive texture.
I felt like God’s Idiot stumbling onto a treasure.
These days, you bastards have it easy. There are dozens of recipes out there for NdM. I had to fight for this one every step of the way. But because I am “self taught” this one may look different than the other ones you find through Mr. Google. This one gives me everything I want, including consistent results.
In France, they use giant copper kettles and stir the confection over flames for hours. You, however, are in luck. My recipe only requires a stand mixer, two heavy saucepans, and one big-ass metal bowl.
And wafer paper. This is an edible potato starch paper you can find in specialty cake and confectionary stores, typically in 8x10 sheets. It works great. The only problem is that the NdM I had in France was sandwiched in this diamond-embossed, delicate, cool-ass wafer paper, and I couldn’t find that stuff anywhere.
So back in the day, I did what anyone would do, and obsessed over it, searching online until I found the company in Holland that made it. I called them to ask who their North American distributor was. They didn’t have one.
But the lovely lady on the phone asked why I needed the wafer paper. I replied, “Nougat de Montelimar.”
“You know how to make it?”
“Yes, actually, I do.”
“Well,” she said. “We can’t sell you any, but we could send you some sample paper if you like…in exchange for a little nougat from your batch.”
Once I recovered my composure I said sure, sure, yeah, no problem. Still not really believing that they would actually send me wafer paper for free…or for nougat.
But you know what? They fucking did! And not just a little. A LEGIT PALLET of the stuff. And now I have enough to last for…ever.
And you know what? If you swing by my place I will gift you some wafer paper. In exchange for a bottle of Pappy’s.
Now let’s make us some NdM.
Shit You Need
a 6 quart stand mixer. If you have a smaller one, you may need to cut the quantities down or risk hot candy on your counter, your floor, your jeans.
10 grams dried egg whites
30 grams sugar
2 egg whites
1/2 tsp salt
250 grams lavender honey - Be careful. You want the honey from lavender flowers, not regular honey with lavender essence added. I’ve been fooled! But if you can’t get lavender honey, regular honey works. In fact, I’ve used orange blossom honey with fantastic results.
700 grams sugar
500 grams corn syrup
100 grams water
1 vanilla bean, scraped (reserve the seeds for sone kick-ass creme bruleé)
4 Tbs melted butter - not much considering the batch size, but it helps with texture
600 grams blanched almonds
300 grams raw pistachios
Keep Calm and justeffingcook
Clear your schedule. Put your phone on Do Not Disturb. There will be split-second timing and lava-hot sugar all up in here.
Toast your pistachios and almonds lightly in a 350 degree oven. They will toast a bit more in the lava hot sugar, so no need to go overboard.
Decrease oven temp to 250 degrees. Pile all your toasted nuts into one huge-ass metal bowl, and place in oven to keep warm. No going off the rails with “keep my nuts warm” jokes. Stay with the program.
In the bowl of a 6 quart stand mixer with the whisk attachment, mix together 30 grams of sugar with the dried egg whites, add the 2 egg whites, mix a minute or two on medium, and let sit to hydrate.
Melt the butter and set aside.
Place the honey in a small saucepan. Add the corn syrup, sugar, water, and vanilla bean husk to a medium saucepan, preferably one with a lip to balance on the edge of your mixing bowl later.
Here comes the timing part: Cook the honey over high heat with a candy thermometer in place. When it reaches 225 degrees, turn the mixer on to its highest setting to begin whipping the egg whites. Once they foam, add the salt.
When the honey reaches 250 degrees, turn off the heat, transfer the thermometer to the medium saucepan and start cooking the sugar mixture on high heat.
Pour the honey into the whipping egg whites in a slow, steady stream. Leave the whites and honey whipping on high.
When the sugar mixture reaches 280 degrees, turn off the heat, pluck out the vanilla bean, and begin pouring into the whipping mixture in a steady stream.
Add the melted butter. The nougat will fly out of the bowl and paint your walls if you try to do this all at once at full speed, so turn it down a little at first, then go back to high speed as the butter is incorporated.
The mixer may strain a little as you go. Tell it to buck up, it won’t be much longer. Basically, once you have a smooth mixture, add it to the warm bowl of nuts.
Mix with a wooden spoon or stiff silicone spatula. This is hard work and the bowl can be hot, so have a couple of potholders handy. Helpers are good, but I am usually alone, so I use one potholder on the edge of the bowl and brace it against my ribs as I stir.
Have your wafer paper ready, face down on a flat surface like a cutting board or countertop. Pour the nougat mixture onto the center. It won’t be lava-hot at this point, so your countertop should be safe.
Two options: you can press it flat gently with gloved (and lightly oiled) hands and then lay the second piece of wafer paper on top - it will feel hot, so be careful; or you can just go ahead with the wafer paper, knowing it’s not going to get into the corners and will mush a bit more out the sides. I’m personally fine with that - it lends authenticity or whatever.
Take a sheet pan and press gently over the top, encouraging the nougat to flow where you want it to go. You can also take a rolling pin to encourage flow to the corners, but be careful not to put too much downward pressure on the pin, as it will rip the wafer paper. Once the nougat is about 3/4 of an inch thick and reasonably flat, allow it to cool completely.
Find someone to cut it for you while you sip a fine bourbon. Direct your helper to the tips and tricks on cutting, below.
Notes on cutting:
The same thing that makes this texture so perfect also makes it hard to cut. The dudes who do this for a living (nougatiers) use a special table saw to cut it, but you don’t have one of those, do you? Damn. Neither do I.
If you press down hard with your knife, it will fracture. Which is fine unless you want it in those delicious little bricks. Which I do.
Use a serrated knife and steady pulling strokes to get through the long cuts. Be patient. Cut crosswise into bite-size pieces. Or two-bites-sized if you are a more delicate nosher.
Those extra bits that you cut off to even up the ends are the property of the person running the knife. They must be eaten as you work or the universe tips out of balance. It’s a science thing.
Notes on Corn Syrup:
Corn syrup is a type of glucose syrup, and is included here for two reasons: it inhibits crystallization of the sugar (sucrose) in solution, and contributes to the texture of the final product. Now, prepare yourself for facts.
You hopefully already know that corn syrup is not high-fructose corn syrup. Nope. Two different products. For HFCS they take a glucose syrup and enzymatically convert some of the glucose to fructose. They do this because fructose is sweeter and therefore more cost-effective in commercial products. It also might be handled differently by the body, but it’s still unclear if it’s worse than the many hidden sugars we consume in our diet.
But I digress.
Here in America, with our amber waves of grain, we have a lot of corn. So the most readily available kind of glucose syrup is corn syrup. In Europe, home bakers will buy “glucose syrup” which might be made from corn, rice, or potatoes. And if you Google enough, you might find “glucose” or “dextrose” syrup from commercial baker’s supply vendors here in the good ol’ US of A. What to do with all these choices? Is there a difference between them all? What the fuck is a DE (dextrose equivalent)?
Glucose is a mono-saccharide with two forms - mirror images of one another, you might say. The L-isomer is uncommon in nature. It tastes the same, but because it is “backwards”, can’t be used by our cells for energy. “They” (the overlords - you know, the same ones who brought us HFCS) once gave it a run as a calorie-free sweetener, but alas, it was super expensive to synthesize. The D-isomer is of glucose is dextrose: the fuel currency of nature. So, are glucose and dextrose the same? Yes-ish.
Glucose syrup is made from the enzymatic hydrolysis of starch, whatever the source. The typical composition will be 20% dextrose, 14% or so maltose (a di-saccharide), and 11% maltotriose (a tri-saccharide). The remainder with be oligosaccharides - in other words, incompletely busted-up starches. The dextrose equivalent - DE - of this kind of syrup is 20.
But you can also get more completely hydrolyzed versions of glucose syrup - typically with a dextrose equivalent of 40. These will be sweeter, but also potentially more consistent for commercial bakers, hence their manufacture.
If you are in a place where your grocery store sells “glucose syrup”, it should be nearly identical to the corn syrup on the shelves in the US. Substitute it 1:1.
If you happen to have glucose syrup with a DE of 40, you might need to play with the recipe a bit. I would start with 300 gm and see how it goes.
Uses:
I usually just wrap the pieces in cello wrap and pack them in boxes to give to friends around the holidays. And eat a shit-ton myself.
But there are a few other uses to consider. For instance - if you freeze it and shatter it with a mallet, it makes a kick-ass topping for a sundae. Or how about in a semifreddo? Stirred into a cake frosting? Nougat ice cream???
Other thoughts:
You can cut quantities in half without a problem. This recipe is sized for holiday consumption.
My stand mixer holds 6 quarts and has 575 watts of power. A smaller bowl may be too small to safely hold this recipe, so cut back. A wimpier motor will definitely strain, so you may need to switch out to the paddle attachment when in starts whining.
My wafer paper is 15x15in, and while I do have a frame that size, I generally just freestyle it. If you want borders around your nougat, you can put 8x10 wafer paper in a silicone baking pan. If you put it in a metal pan, oil it.
ERMAHGERD!!! (Duck Confit)
Welcome to this week’s installment of Fucking Delicious Fridays! This week I have a conundrum. How to categorize duck confit?
Welcome to this week’s installment of Fucking Delicious Fridays! This week I have a conundrum. How to categorize duck confit? For as you know, my main categories are Ridiculously Easy, Worth the Work, Shit you Need, Bitch, Please, and coming soon, Fucking Fails.
Duck confit is pretty simple to do. It’s a stick it in the oven and walk away to do other shit for a while sort of thing. The hardest part of the whole recipe is picking meat off bones, but even that it easy because it should fall right off if you look at it hard enough.
Still, it involves finding duck legs and probably special ordering them, and then you have all this glorious duck fat at the end, which should not be thrown away, but strained and used for other things. So for those reasons, it’s gone in the Worth It Anyway category.
All that being said, this shit is like crack, and it will make your house smell like the home of a fucking culinary genius.
Duck confit is where you cook the legs of (rather chubby) ducks in their own fat. Which is possibly the best idea anyone ever had, though arguably lands in evil genius territory along with sharks with laser beams on their heads.
Seriously, it is genius, because back in the days before refrigeration, this way of preparing and storing your game meat kept it edible all year long. By storing meat in the fat you cooked it in, it created a hostile environment for icky disease-causing bacteria. Those little fuckers need oxygen.
So duck confit is a practical solution for the dystopian future of your choice, whether it be alien invasion, zombie apocalypse, or sentient robots. You’re welcome.
Plus, it’s insanely fucking delicious. Did I say that already? Well, it’s worth repeating.
You may ask, “So then I have a bunch of ridiculously delicious duck meat. What now?” The traditional use is cassoulet, a delicious French beans and wieners sort of dish (the townspeople will be sharpening pitchforks and lighting torches at the comparison…oh, well).
But if you have been to any remotely creative eating establishment in the last few years, you may have seen duck confit on pizza, in pasta dishes, in some elevated shepherd’s pie, you name it. One of my favorite restaurants in Minneapolis, Lat 14, has a pineapple fried rice that I get with duck confit. Fucking amazing.
One of their dishes inspired my absolute favorite-ist dish using duck confit: Pineapple fried rice with bacon and duck confit.
If you’re good, one day I’ll give you the recipe.
The recipe that follows uses the traditional French seasonings: garlic, thyme, peppercorns and juniper berries, because it was adapted from this recipe for cassoulet. But think of the possibilities! How about ginger and lemongrass? Galangal and kaffir? Oregano and dried chipotles? Garlic, orange juice and cinnamon….Hold the phone. Duck carnitas? Sounds like a future Fucking Delicious Fridays installment!
Shit You Need
6 duck legs, Pekin, Moulard or Rohan. I am being difficult here, because the place I order from typically sells in packs of 4. But 6 legs fit best in my baking dish, so that’s how I am writing the recipe. Figure it out.
6 Tbs kosher salt
Several sprigs of thyme
4 cloves of garlic, crushed
2 Tbs peppercorns. I use my Special Pepper for duck confit - it’s a Madagascan wild pepper called voatsiperifery. You can use regular peppercorns if you want, but if you have your own Special Pepper, this is the time to use it.
1 tsp dried juniper berries. Optional, I guess, but I think it really adds something.
Keep Calm and justeffingcook
Day One:
Yes, this is a multi-day recipe. It’s not hard, it just takes planning. Quit whining.
Prick the skin of each duck leg in a dozen or so places with the tip of a paring knife. This helps the salt penetrate, and later will help the fat render from the skin.
Holding it in or over the bowl/dish it’s going to rest overnight in, sprinkle with 1 Tbs of kosher salt, back and front. Massage it in a bit. Place the leg in the bowl/dish.
Repeat with the remaining duck legs, tiling/stacking/nestling them in the dish.
Cover with plastic wrap, placing it down in the bowl right on top of the legs.
Place a plate or bowl on top of the covered legs, and put something on top to weigh it down - soup cans, grandma’s china, whatever.
Place in the refrigerator to rest between 12 and 24 hours. Don’t let it go days and days, or you will wind up with super salty duck jerky.
Day 2:
Preheat the oven to 250 degrees Fahrenheit.
Place the peppercorns, juniper berries, thyme and garlic in the bottom of a roasting pan. A 9x13 Pyrex baking pan works great here. If you have 2 of them, even better. You can use the second one to weigh down the first while the duck roasts.
Rinse the duck legs well and place in the pan, skin side down.
Cover with foil, and place something on top of the foil to weigh the whole business down - another baking dish, a cast iron pan, your worries and responsibilities (as long as they are oven-safe).
Place in the oven and walk away for two hours. Doesn’t it feel good to leave your worries and responsibilities behind, even for two hours?
Pull from the oven, remove the weighty object and foil, and flip the legs skin-side up. Place back in the oven to roast uncovered for 2 - 2 1/2 hours. The skin will be golden and the meat will have pulled away from the drumstick end.
Let rest at room temperature until cool enough to handle, then go for it. Pull the meat off the bones. Save the skin for duck chicharrones if desired.
Everything that’s left in the pan is: 1. duck stock 2. duck fat and 3. garbage. Pour it through a fine mesh strainer to eliminate the garbage.
For what remains, strain the top (fat) again, this time adding a square of cheesecloth to the strainer so that you get a lovely jar of golden duck fat without any floaties. Be careful to leave behind all the liquid at the bottom. That stock can be saved separately and used to flavor the next soup you make.
Hooray! You now have duck confit, a little stock, and duck fat. Make yourself some duck fat fried potatoes to celebrate!