The Winter Suprême

A pantry full of optimism

I spent the last hours of 2023 baking for our annual holiday box. Normally a Christmas Eve activity, this year I was in bed with a cold. So, a week delayed but still happening, we drove into a dark New Year’s Eve night like the Grinch headed back to Whoville.

The process of readying for the holiday bake is heavy on setup. There are mixes to organize, ingredients to procure, boxes to fold, and spreadsheets of recipes to organize. As I chopped chocolate, zested oranges, cut plums, and fed the sourdough, my thoughts ran to preparation.

And what I mean by that isn’t necessarily the pleasing efficiency of scaled ingredients queuing for a mixer. Rather, it’s the idea that when I prepare to bake (regardless of the project), I’m gathering more than flour, starter, or eggs. When I go to the pantry, it’s for optimism. What is baking if not hopeful?

When I mix, I stir with the wish that what I make will be beautiful. When I fold or knead, I search for reminders that something can grow from nothing. And when I watch the oven, I see that I can better the place I’m in — the place where you are, the place where we’ll be in the coming year — one tray, one loaf, one skillet of cornbread, at a time.

So, as we bake our way into 2024, I hope you’re heading to the pantry. That you’re dreaming of beautiful things and the ways that what you make might improve more than meals. Or, simply baking for yourself and stuffing a quiet house with the aroma of something simple.

I’m grateful that you read the Curio. Thanks for your support. Let’s keep it hopeful.

Martin

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The Winter Suprême

In recent weeks I’ve been playing with a spiced version of the Brioche Suprême. For me, the winter season kick-off relies entirely on the power of creamy eggnog, ice, and a splash of rum or whiskey. It’s my dark month(s) holiday carol.

Per usual, I’ve taken this pastry around the block a few times with versions that have ranged from a kouign amann treatment of the dough (sugar added during lamination, a coarse salt garnish, and sugared molds), a filled version with nutmeg-infused whipped cream, and finally, back where I started, the unaltered suprême. While there were some compelling things about the kouign amann version, I didn’t like how the sugar added during lamination resulted in poor visuals and poor lamination. So, back to the original version and that combines the lightness of laminated brioche a boozy, nutmeg-scented crème légère.

For the method, I’m following the original Brioche Suprême recipe that I wrote, and doing my best to manage the cool temperatures in my house and a long, slow final proof time which is common this time of year. If you haven’t done any laminating before, read the full recipe and be sure to bring along a tape measure or ruler. While laminated work is more complicated than a no-knead bread or a pan of focaccia, it’s not as bad as its reputation. The analogy that I’ve been making lately is that it’s like making a shirt — straight lines lead to even cuffs, a nice collar and something to be proud of. You may not hit the mark on the first try. That’s ok. When you’re struggling, just remember that I’ve made more mistakes than you. I’ve failed more bakes, and produced more flops. Take heart, try again.

Suprême cliff notes

To briefly recap the process, you’ll mix a base dough and let it rise for 60 to 90 minutes. After that you’ll roll and chill then prepare the butter block. Those elements will come together with a double, then single fold before being cut into strips.

After cutting they go into molds for a long final proof. And here’s an option if you don’t have the larger molds: after the final cold period, roll the block of dough to 6” by 12” and cut 6” x 1” strips (12 pieces total), then place into muffin tins. Proof with parchment and a tray on top, then bake. While the structure isn’t quite as good, they are delicious.

For filling the winter suprêmes, I recommend reading the previous newsletter on suprême fillings and treatments. In that piece I detail what you’ll need to get you going for tools and method.

For a filling, I’m using this spiced pastry cream and lightening it slightly with whipped cream. I pipe it in using a filling tip (again, detailed in the fillings piece) and then garnish.

Winter Pastry cream

Milk, 150g

In a small pot, bring the milk to a simmer.

Sugar, 32g
Cornstarch, 9g
Salt, fine, 1g
Egg yolks, 50g
Nutmeg, freshly grated, 2.5g (about 1/2 of a nut)

While the milk heats (keep a close eye on it), stir together the sugar, cornstarch, salt, and nutmeg in a medium bowl. Add the egg yolks and whisk until homogenous.

Add half the warm milk to the egg mixture to temper it. Stir vigorously to combine, then whisk the tempered milk and yolk mixture back into the pot.

Return to the heat and stir constantly until thickened.

Butter, 9g
Dark rum, whiskey, or vanilla, 8g (about 2 teaspoons, to taste)

Remove from the heat and stir in the butter and spirits.

Note: This is a very small batch of pastry cream. Be careful to stir constantly and avoid too much heat or it will start to curdle. If, in spite of your best attempts, the texture isn’t perfectly homogenous, simply strain it and proceed. Or, double the batch (which gives a slightly larger margin for error) and enjoy what’s left over as chilled pudding or freeze and eat like ice cream.

After chilling the pastry cream until it’s fully set I add in a small amount of whipped cream to lighten it then proceed with filling the suprêmes. (All the granular detail for filling these is in the fillings post.) In the version at the top of page I garnish with a little whipped cream, additional grated nutmeg, and a dusting of confectioners sugar. As with everything else, once you’re to the filling phase, it’s your party.

And a little post script.

The holiday box this year included a miniature cranberry-almond coffee cake with an orange-scented streusel. The recipe was a riff on a version from the recipe of the year line-up at King Arthur which I modified. We also included a cookie, a brown butter buckwheat and cardamom chocolate chunk. It’s a recipe I wrote and is up on the King Arthur website. One note on that, you have to use sifted buckwheat. Don’t use whole buckwheat. And last, a whole wheat sourdough flavored with dried plums, toasted pecans, and anise (again, there is a similar recipe that I wrote on the King Arthur website).

A holiday box, ready for the lid.