Banana Speculoos Bread Pudding

Voila! Though not be the most refreshing dessert summertime weather, my boyfriend had never heard of the infamous American classic, Bread Pudding, so I had to whip up a recipe, during the hottest week of May in Paris, of course.  

With a side of salted butter caramel ice cream of courese

I will confess, this is not my recipe.  Rather it is adapted from Diana Rossen Worthington's bread pudding recipe, found in her extremely useful book "Seriously Simple: Easy Recipes for Creative Cooks".  I highly recommend the book for the newbie cooks out there.  

Can't keep them apart

My dates for the night (teeheehee)

Instead of dried and fresh dates, I used banana slices and speculoos cream.  Haven't heard of it? Check out your local Trader Joe's, for those American readers out there.  Trader Joe's has searched the best and brightest of international comfort foods, and they indeed have come across speculoos in the French supermarkets, next to Nutella and miel (honey).  But rather than calling it by its Danish name (which my Swedish friend is convinced sounds like a shady James Bond character), Trader Joe's calls it Cookie Butter.  So never fear!  You do not have to be in France to make this delectable comfort food after all! (Though a visit to the source would not go unnoticed from moi:).

Below is the recipe, enjoy! And try not to eat it before it is cooked, however tempting sugary egg soaked brioche may be....mmmm...gooeyness....

Ingredients

• Your face
• 1 pound of day old Challah bread or Brioche bread (something with similar consistency), cut into 1-2 inch cubes.  (I just used brioche from the supermarket, took it out of its bag for a day, then cut it up)
• 3 bananas, sliced
• 6 or more tablespoons of speculooos (enough to coat the slices of banana, but not so much that you cannot see the bananas.  This is really a personal preference of speculoos lovers out there)
• 6 eggs
• 2 egg yolks
• 1.25 cups of granulated regular sugar
• 3.5 cups half and half (for my European cookers, you can mix equal parts heavy whipping cream, called Creme Fleurette in France, with equal parts whole milk to come up with half and half.  Thank you, David Lebovitz)
• The company of a fat cat
• 1 tablespoon vanilla extract
• Pinch of nutmeg
• An empty stomach

1) Cut up brioche and place in bowl

2) Butter a 9 by 13 baking dish

3) Place speculoos in a small microwaveable bowl and microwave on high for a minute, covered, checking at 30 second intervals.  You want the speculoos to be gooey and melty, but not hard from overheating.

4) Once hot and melty, add bananas to the bowl and mix around.  If it looks like there is too much speculoos, add some more bananas or take out speculoos.  If not enough speculoos, microwave some more and add it to the bowl.

5) Add banana speculoos concoction to bowl of brioche and mix around, evenly coated.

6) Pour bread mixture into baking dish evenly.

This one has banana speculoos on the left and dates on the right.  Experimenting to see which would  be yummier.

7) Combine the eggs and egg yolks in another bowl, medium sized bowl.  Beat with an electric mixer until frothy, or with a whisk until frothy, which is around five to seven minutes.

8) Add the sugar and continue beating until it becomes thick and lighter colored, about ten minutes if by hand, three minutes by electric mixer.

9) Turn off the machine, add the half and half, and mix just to combine, not to beat (woohoo! no more whisking!)

10) Pour creamy delicious solution evenly on top of bread.  Let sit for a half hour to an hour, occasionally pushing the bread down with a spoon to allow the liquid to rise and really soak into the bread.

Mmmm gooey bread

11) Preheat oven to 375 F (190 for celsius users) and stick the bread pudding in the oven.  Cook for 20-25 minutes, take out, push bread down to let custard rise again and move the custard around so evenly distributed, then place back in the oven for another 15-20 minutes, or until a knife inserted in the center comes out clean.  I like my pudding on the gooey side, so I go for less time, but it is a personal preference.

12) Finishing touches: once out of the oven, let it sit for 10 minutes to cool down.  Serve on its own, with ice cream, or a creme anglaise sauce (sweet liquid whipped cream sauce).  To me, banana speculoos calls for vanilla or caramel ice cream, or both! Be creative. Add pecans or walnuts for a true banana bread experience...enjoy!

Already eat for dessert before being apple to capture it...and the banana side won.

Also: this dish is great cold, and a wonderful snack in the morning with milky black tea.  Like lasagna, it gets better with each day, as more of the flavors soak into the starch.

Why the French Frequent the Markets

No, it’s not the romanticism of the countryside encapsulated into each radish and fromage.  Those can be found at the supermarket too, you know.  No ,it is not the chance to stroll outside in beautiful Paris.  For most of the year, Paris is chilly, and the markets of Paris do not consistently resemble the many yuppie markets of America.

Its economics.  When it comes down to it, the markets are simply cheaper.  Now, I have been contested on this statement.  Sure, markets in the 7th and 15^th arrondisements are pricier, but they are within walking distance of the Eiffel Tower and Champs Elysees, neighborhoods more upscale tourist friendly to begin with.  The vendors are not stupid.  Like in America, vendors alter their prices depending on the neighborhood.  But if one takes the road less traveled by, it may make all the difference (thank you, Robert Frost).

Being a resident of the 11^th, I frequent the famous Bastille Market.  Taking up four blocks, with two aisles worth of stalls (meaning four rows of stalls), the Bastille market remains one of, if not, the largest outdoor market in Paris.  The market derives its name from the Bastille, a prison that was stormed by the people and destroyed in the beginning stages of the French Revolution.  What remains is a monument symbolizing the importance of that day and that event.  The monument sits at one end of the market (and a metro line) making it easy to find this colossal outdoor food fair.

Famous historical for its size, the market abstains from exploiting the pockets of its Parisian customers.  Heads of local fresh lettuce from my favorite produce stand sell for a euro or less.  The supermarket across the street, Simply, sells them for a euro fifty (slug included, seriously).  Cherries, now in season, sell anywhere from 11 euros a kilo to a euro a kilo.  I got mine for 1.90 a kilo, an amazing deal.  Any supermarket sells them for 8 euros a kilo at the cheapest.  Oh yes, and to make things easier, a kilo is equal to roughly 2 pounds.  Yes, I too thought Paris produce quite pricey when I arrived here, until I figured this one out.

Eggs are the most interesting of market products.  From cheese vendors, to poultry vendors, to even regular farm stands, all sell fresh eggs.  Contrary to popular belief, eggs at French markets are, for the most part, cheaper, fresher, and healthier than the eggs at your local French supermarket.  I say for the most part, because, like with any food purchases, you have to do your research.  Who is to say an egg stand doesn’t take mass produced eggs, and put them in a cute country wicker basket as if fresh off the farm?  It’s possible.  Which is where the learning French part of my living experience has come in handy.  My boyfriend once asked about the freshness of a fromagerie’s eggs, since we wanted to make ouef a la coque (3 minute boiled eggs, very runny), the woman told us that the eggs were so fresh that the egg man who delivers them sucks a raw one out of its shell every delivery morning.  Sold.  We took 4.

The pretty eggs (goose eggs too!)

The Fromagerie we got our eggs from

So the French frequent the markets because…they are cheap? Yes.  It is not the organic that is driving the daily Parisienne markets.  And it is not specialty products either, though I must say the creperie inside Bastille market, and the Lebanese stand inside the Place Monge market are worth visits in and of themselves.  It is the fact that these products are cheaper and of equal or better quality. 

Did I say organic? No, many products are not organic.  It is the one big divide between American and French markets.  Due to the almost pure organic products at American markets, prices are much more expensive than at the Safeway down the street.  Many French stands do not market their products as organic, though they may very well be organic.   One has to perform the age old dance of: asking.  Okay so maybe it isn’t as terrifying when in your mother tongue, but nevertheless, it is a shopping habit that is quickly diminishing in this day and age.  Another word for it is communication; you know, that age old form of give and take.  It is still alive in the markets here.  And maybe for that reason—the abundance of communication—prices remain low, and the origins of products are left to be discovered orally, word of mouth, taste of mouth, without labels and codification.  

To the Bastille! Election Day A La France

It's a big one.  It seems to on everyone's mind, and everyone's go to conversation topic, kicking the weather to the side (poor weather).  Yes, it is the French presidential election.  It occurs every five years, and this year's may be more monumental then others.  Why?  The candidates.  And of course, the French people: Francaise e Francais.  It is they who really choose the candidates.  And it is they who have made this a more monumental year.  In the primaries, they voted the far right, the middle right, and the far left in almost equal measure. Marine La Pen,  of the far right Front National Party, daughter of the famous (and racist) politician Jean-Marie Le Pen received 17.9%.  Sarkozy, the current president and leader of the middle right party "Union for a Popular Movement" (UMP), received 2nd most French votes.  Hollande, the up and coming from the far left, surprisingly received the most French votes, putting him in the lead.  The two candidates with the highest votes move on to the final election, only two weeks following.

So far, fairly similar to the American election system, right?  Well yes and no.  Yes, there is voting, done by the people, for the people, in choosing the most correct candidate.  But aside from that, much is different.  For one, each candidate is given an equal amount of advertising time on the radio and on television.  It is the law.  Secondly, there are not two parties running the show.  There are several, perhaps dozens of parties running.  It is not a matter of financial backing, it is a matter of popularity.  Third, the right is far from right when compared to the states.  The right of France is left of the left of America.  And the left of France? Well off of American charts.  In the socialized healthcare and sturdy safety net of France, French politics commences on a separate playing field.

Fourth, and a slightly separate topic: voting day.  It has come!  In France, voting day is always held on a Sunday, and the polls are open almost all day, until around eight in the evening.  As such, last Sunday brought me to Luzarches, a tiny town just north of central Paris, and home to my boyfriend.  The voting cites are also always located in schools or community centers.  When we arrived, we simply walked down the street five minutes to John's old grad school.  Of course, not forgetting voter registration cards.  Unlike the states, where one just needs an ID, France provides each citizen with a voting card, which they must bring with them every time they vote.  It states the the area with which they are registered to vote, and is stamped every time one votes.

The voting system, as you can see from the pictures below, is much more complicated.  Okay maybe that is an overstatement.  Okay maybe that is a lie.

Actually, it is quite simple.  One takes a card of each candidate's name, steps into the curtained booth, places the card of their preferred candidate into the provided envelope, and slips the envelope into the big locked box at the front of the room.  It is that easy.  Before slipping in your candidate of choice, one must show their voter registration card, and have their name crossed off.

So what now? Now you wait.  All day, like in the states, numbers are called in on the radio and on the news.  Everyone knew this was going to be a close election.  With Hollande's surprising win in the first election, everyone was nervous as to which side would take the lead.  Wait, go back for a second, why is Hollande's win surprising? Hollande represents the left slant of French politics, the French Socialist Party.  The left hasn't held the presidential seat since 1995 under Francois Mitterand (1981-1995); that is 17 years of right Presidents.  Additionally, Sarkozy's extensive political career initially constructed him as a shoe-in for this presidential term.

By eight o clock, it is over.  Well not officially, like in the states, but really, it is over.  The outcome? It was close, and once again, surprising.  Hollande wins with 51.6 percent of the vote, with Sarkozy trailing at 48.7 percent.  Pretty close.  Over seventy percent of French citizens vote for their president.  Can the states boast the same numbers?  A couple other points of interest.  The votes are counted, and are then checked by four private companies.  The votes are checked.  Four times.  Pretty good.  Also, there is no electoral system.  A person's vote counts towards the entirety of the votes, rather than a person's vote persuading the interest of a handful of individuals within your region to make the best choice.  Which is more democratic? You decide.

Party over.  At least for Sarkozy fans and the stage set up at Place de la Concorde.  We arrived back in Paris in the early evening, took a nap, and saw the results: astonished.  Disappointed, we each went to our own work; I studied and John worked on the computer.  However, the incessant honking and yelling from the street below finally got to me.  "Want to go for a walk and check it out, just for five minutes?"  "Yeah sure why not".

"Maybe there is something happening at the Bastille" John remarks.  We leisurely head in the that direction, being just 10 minutes walking distance from the Bastille.

We couldn't have been more right.

Of course, could we have been more stupid? The Bastille, the taking of the Bastille, the freeing of the prisoners during the French Revolution, the symbol of French liberte, egalite, fraternite, of course this would be where Hollande fans would reunite.  But it wasn't just reuniting.  As we got closer to the center, (and closer to realizing sandals were not such a good idea), the feeling of being a sardine in a tin, like on the metro, became ever more of a reality.  We could not even reach the Bastille.  The large car run roundabout had transformed into a round tin of French sardines.  The people were infinite.  The entire roundabout was packed; men and women were on top of light poles and on top of the monument itself, waving flags and lighting fireworks.   Oh yeah, a leisurely stroll to the Bastille.  Wrong.  We found ourselves in the middle of a frenzied after party, a mix of those politically charged for the future, and those finding an excuse to drink and smoke excessively in public.

We continued moving inward, wondering why the packed circle kept enlarging at 11:30 in the evening.  Finally, after asking a fellow sardine, we were told that Hollande was coming to the Bastille, to give a speech, at midnight.  The man was coming! And we could see it! We decided to wait.  We waited, and waited, and waited.  After an hour of being pushed around and inhaling a couple of cigarette packs from our smoking neighbors, we decided to leave, not knowing when he would arrive.

Of course, as newspapers indicated the following morning, Hollande arrived an hour later than due, at 12:45am, twenty minutes after we had parted ways with the Bastille's Hollandites.  Bummer.  On the bright side, or toes remained intact that following morning.

As I am writing this, it is now the end of May, with assembly elections around the corner.  Unlike the states, assembly elections follow the same drum as the presidential election, occurring every five years, a couple weeks following the presidential election.  

Already, Hollande's actions have landed mixed criticism in the eyes of the French.  Whether a Hollande supporter or critic, his actions are intriguing in an entertaining sort of way.  Of course, I am American.  I am sure the French, on both sides, do not see him as entertaining, but rather as a beacon of light, leading France into a more egalitarian future, or as a Cassandra catapulting into a system on the verge of collapsing.

Time will tell.  

Day 2: Sirmione, Italie

Where? What? Who?  Haven't heard of Sirmione? I hadn't either.  

Here she is! 

The perks of living in another country is finding the the places that country considers gem travelling destinations. For France, Sirmione is one of them.  Thank you France.  France one, Lonely Planet Guide zero.

Merci

Sirmione is a tiny town situated at the end of a peninsula jutting off of the southern end of Lake Garda.  Possessing the ruins of an ancient Roman Villa, as well as a medieval water fortress, Sirmione is a town worth visiting, even if a bit touristy.

View from the top of the fortress looking south, mainland.  Even at the tip, the peninsula stretches out pretty thin over Lake Garda.

View from the opposite side of the fortress, facing north. Nothing but Lake Garda, oh and some pretty buidlings.  Gotta love the color in Italy.

Why thank you, I did take this picture of a picture.  Mighty creative.  The water fortress side of the castle. Pretty cool.  The uncool part: not being able to walk on it.

The pictures directly above give you a glimpse of the truly peninsual feel of the city, and the medieval fortress.  The pictures below show all that remains of the Roman Villa.  While guide books and travel plans hailed the site as a the most well preserved Roman villa in Italy, I have my doubts.  Even if it is, I am not sure it is worth the ticket in getting in.  Luckily for us, it was culture week, so everything, including the fortress, was free.

The beauty of the place lies in the silence and absence of people.

Wall remaining from second floor of villa.

Old olive trees inhabiting the villa garden...notice the tree trunks...strong creatures.

I can also say that I had the best fior di latte gelato of the trip in San Sirmione, at the organic gelateria.  I do not remember the name of the place, but walk past all the other gelaterias handing you large samples, take the samples of course, and continue to the upscale organic gelateria that doesn't seem to want to help you.  Yes that is what one you want.

Keep going.

Take a sample, and pass go.

And stop.  Well not really here, but with that gelato.  Don't let the face deceive you!

 And what is fior di latte?  It is not vaniglia, as it looks, so do not be fooled.  Literally meaning "milk flower" fior di latte is simply your most simple gelato.  But that may be what makes it so good, and sometimes so bad.  The ingredients are basic: milk, sugar, and cream.  Therefore, the quality of the ingredients truly impacts the quality in taste for such a simple flavor.  People have different ways of judging the quality of gelato at a gelateria.  Some have said to look at the pistachio, others have said to look at what the gelato is stored in.  To me, it is in the fior di latte.  If the firo di latte is not spectacular, you know the others will not be spectular, since milk forms the basis of all gelato.  Okay I digress, back to Sirmione.

Okay enough talk.  To really enjoy Sirmione, it must be seen.  

Castle...

Castle...

Ooh look! Birdies!

Okay, castle

Caslte...

Drawbridge!

Don't try to roll the stone...

Lest you want to go from this....

To this

And cause this

But I sued, so they gave me this.

And he seems to be okay with it.

Sure!

No Italian post is complete without outrageous accessories and trashbag jackets, thank you Italy.