Not yet satisfied with my version of the Italian almond cookies I made in Italy, I continue my search for the right ingredients and techniques, but success eludes me.
The cookies I bought in Rome and in Tuscan hill towns (see my April 17, 2011 post) were smooth and moist on the inside, crusty on the outside, covered in pine nuts, almonds or pistachios, had a fine flavor balance, and were made in round or tubular shapes.
My first batch, made in Italy using my standard almond paste in a can, was too sweet. The almond paste contains sugar, which seems to overpower the cookies. European cookies, in general, lean toward less sugar. I knew I'd need to try an alternative to almond paste. As well, my cookies did not sit up in proud little balls--they melted into pancakes during cooking. That will never do.
My next experiment, when I returned home, took me to the bulk bins at my favorite grocery store, Central Market in Shoreline, Washington. I scooped a batch of "almond meal," which the Italian recipe wanted, and made my next batch. The cookie batter was drier and I had hopes that the cookies would hold their shape. After all, the cookies sit to dry on the cookie sheet for two hours before baking. That should be sufficient to make a firm outer crust.
This batch was less sugary, but two problems remained. First, the almond meal grind was too coarse, contributing to a coarse cookie inside. Second, the balls and tubes of cookie dough again insisted on flattening into little circles and ovals in the oven. And as a result, they remained soft only for a couple of days. They crisped up after that, leaving no soft center.
I regrouped and went online. I learned that almond meal was a coarser version of almond flour, so I searched for the flour. Bob's Red Mill straddles the fence with their "Almond Meal/Flour," but it says it is "finely ground." At $10 per one-pound package, I took a chance. My third batch did have a finer texture--one problem solved, but these still flattened as though steam-rolled when baked.
I also had to acknowledge that my method of applying pine nuts or almonds to the outside of the cookies was lacking. The nuts on the Italian bakeshop cookies seemed to adhere evenly and easily, whereas I've always had to work to press nuts into the dough. And they still tried to fall off.
So, where are we?
Lessons learned:
So, why is this such a challenge? The techniques seem so effortless in every bakery in Italy. I should be able to do this if I set my American mind to it, right? The only thing standing in my way of a perfect cookie seems to be a face-to-face conversation with a real Italian baker--too late, now that I'm home, and maybe beyond my barely conversational Italian.
More importantly, why am I trying so hard? Maybe because I feel my goal is within my grasp. I have all the ingredients. I just need the secret handshake.
Or maybe, success with this very Italian confection will make me feel somehow "more Italian," more a part of the Italian landscape in which I typically feel so comfortable, so at home. My parents may have taught me the special ingredients to a Ligurian pasta sauce (which we call gravy), and the techniques for a perfect pesto dish, but they did not prepare me for this.
The flattened discs stare up at me from hot cookie sheets. Chiding my naive efforts, they declare me a total foreigner to the Italian culture. "Straniera," they say, "how dare you claim Italian heritage?"
You can expect more almond cookie posts. Just have to get this right.
The cookies I bought in Rome and in Tuscan hill towns (see my April 17, 2011 post) were smooth and moist on the inside, crusty on the outside, covered in pine nuts, almonds or pistachios, had a fine flavor balance, and were made in round or tubular shapes.
My first batch, made in Italy using my standard almond paste in a can, was too sweet. The almond paste contains sugar, which seems to overpower the cookies. European cookies, in general, lean toward less sugar. I knew I'd need to try an alternative to almond paste. As well, my cookies did not sit up in proud little balls--they melted into pancakes during cooking. That will never do.
Pretty and tasty made with Bob's Red Mill finely ground "Almond Meal/Flour," but they did not hold their shape. |
This batch was less sugary, but two problems remained. First, the almond meal grind was too coarse, contributing to a coarse cookie inside. Second, the balls and tubes of cookie dough again insisted on flattening into little circles and ovals in the oven. And as a result, they remained soft only for a couple of days. They crisped up after that, leaving no soft center.
I regrouped and went online. I learned that almond meal was a coarser version of almond flour, so I searched for the flour. Bob's Red Mill straddles the fence with their "Almond Meal/Flour," but it says it is "finely ground." At $10 per one-pound package, I took a chance. My third batch did have a finer texture--one problem solved, but these still flattened as though steam-rolled when baked.
I also had to acknowledge that my method of applying pine nuts or almonds to the outside of the cookies was lacking. The nuts on the Italian bakeshop cookies seemed to adhere evenly and easily, whereas I've always had to work to press nuts into the dough. And they still tried to fall off.
So, where are we?
Lessons learned:
- Cookies made with almond flour are less sugary than those made with almond paste
- Finely ground almond flour gives a smooth texture
- Cookies that hold their shape
- Cookies that hold their nuts (don't even start)
So, why is this such a challenge? The techniques seem so effortless in every bakery in Italy. I should be able to do this if I set my American mind to it, right? The only thing standing in my way of a perfect cookie seems to be a face-to-face conversation with a real Italian baker--too late, now that I'm home, and maybe beyond my barely conversational Italian.
More importantly, why am I trying so hard? Maybe because I feel my goal is within my grasp. I have all the ingredients. I just need the secret handshake.
Or maybe, success with this very Italian confection will make me feel somehow "more Italian," more a part of the Italian landscape in which I typically feel so comfortable, so at home. My parents may have taught me the special ingredients to a Ligurian pasta sauce (which we call gravy), and the techniques for a perfect pesto dish, but they did not prepare me for this.
The flattened discs stare up at me from hot cookie sheets. Chiding my naive efforts, they declare me a total foreigner to the Italian culture. "Straniera," they say, "how dare you claim Italian heritage?"
You can expect more almond cookie posts. Just have to get this right.
You might like Michael Ruhlman's blog today on an app for calculating the formulas for cookies, called Cookulus. (Michael Ruhlman - Translating the Chef’s Craft for Every Kitchen) Dorothy
ReplyDeleteThank you, Dorothy - great info. - Hotcookie
ReplyDeleteKaren, I just came on this blog that you might want to check out. The sand dollar cookies are amazing looking. http://www.diamondsfordessert.com/
ReplyDeleteDorothy