So, when we last left our heroine, she was wallowing in the mauling she received from the bear claws she had spent two days making from scratch. She nursed her wounds over the next few weeks and, finally, after the pain of epic culinary failure subsided and the pendulum of time swung to her side, the fire of revenge lit within her breast as she stared at the other half of danish dough, which had heretofore been mocking her every time she opened the freezer. Determination swelled as she flung the frozen dough onto the counter and vowed that this time, she would conquer the bear. She envisioned licking almond crumbs and flaky pastry off her fingers as the dough thawed into battle position.
Not to be fooled twice, our heroine prepared for the long campaign ahead of her. Like any good coach after an embarrassing loss, she reviewed the film footage of the prior game, jotting mental notes of weaknesses in her position; she reviewed the texts, poring over the instructions for cues she had missed. In the end it was fairly clear that defeat had come during the proofing process. Berenbaum's recipe for the Bear Claws had said that the claws should be set to rise "in a warm place." So our heroine had slightly heated up the stove, let it cool a bit (as one might for baking bread) and put the pastry inside to rise. Having returned to the master recipe for danish dough, Berenbaum elaborated considerably on the particularities of the proofing process, namely that one should proof the dough at a temperature between 86 and 92 degrees, which the author achieved through ridiculous measures involving ramekins full of hot water to support a second jelly roll pan to cover the first, topped with a heating pad. Having no second jelly roll pan, and no desire to retrieve the somewhat buried heating pad, our heroine decided to heat the convection microwave to 100 degrees, let it cool for 10 minutes, and proof the bear claws in there.
The second weak point in her prior assault had been the filling. The remonce recipe in Beranbaum's book was somewhat runny to begin with. In re-reading the text, she also realized that she was supposed to use half of the amount produced for the bear claw recipe. Overstuffing the bear claws with semi-gelatinous almond filling had clearly contributed to the downfall of the danish. Our heroine determined that this time, she would also refrigerate the remonce so as to prevent the butter from melting during the proofing process.
And so, having charted her course, she returned with great courage to the site of her ignoble defeat, gave the cry of battle and gently attacked the dough with her rolling pin. She rolled, she cut, she filled, she sprinkled with cinnamon sugar, she brushed with eggwash, sealed, folded, sliced, brushed with eggwash again, and sprinkled the nascent claws with sliced almonds. Then she put them in the just slightly warm box of the microwave and let them rise for the allotted time, whereupon, they looked like this:
The claws glistened in the light and she wasn't yet sure what to think, so set the kettle to boil and went about making a pot of chai tea, gathering her hand-me-down New Yorker, and cautiously preparing for the first bite. The fruit of her arduous labors looked promising enough:
Not to be fooled twice, our heroine prepared for the long campaign ahead of her. Like any good coach after an embarrassing loss, she reviewed the film footage of the prior game, jotting mental notes of weaknesses in her position; she reviewed the texts, poring over the instructions for cues she had missed. In the end it was fairly clear that defeat had come during the proofing process. Berenbaum's recipe for the Bear Claws had said that the claws should be set to rise "in a warm place." So our heroine had slightly heated up the stove, let it cool a bit (as one might for baking bread) and put the pastry inside to rise. Having returned to the master recipe for danish dough, Berenbaum elaborated considerably on the particularities of the proofing process, namely that one should proof the dough at a temperature between 86 and 92 degrees, which the author achieved through ridiculous measures involving ramekins full of hot water to support a second jelly roll pan to cover the first, topped with a heating pad. Having no second jelly roll pan, and no desire to retrieve the somewhat buried heating pad, our heroine decided to heat the convection microwave to 100 degrees, let it cool for 10 minutes, and proof the bear claws in there.
The second weak point in her prior assault had been the filling. The remonce recipe in Beranbaum's book was somewhat runny to begin with. In re-reading the text, she also realized that she was supposed to use half of the amount produced for the bear claw recipe. Overstuffing the bear claws with semi-gelatinous almond filling had clearly contributed to the downfall of the danish. Our heroine determined that this time, she would also refrigerate the remonce so as to prevent the butter from melting during the proofing process.
And so, having charted her course, she returned with great courage to the site of her ignoble defeat, gave the cry of battle and gently attacked the dough with her rolling pin. She rolled, she cut, she filled, she sprinkled with cinnamon sugar, she brushed with eggwash, sealed, folded, sliced, brushed with eggwash again, and sprinkled the nascent claws with sliced almonds. Then she put them in the just slightly warm box of the microwave and let them rise for the allotted time, whereupon, they looked like this:
This was a vast improvement over the prior batch; however, while not as visible from the film footage, our heroine was again facing creeping pools of butter and remonce leaching from the claws. She held her head up defiantly as she cast them into the fire for 15 minutes until golden, whereupon they looked like this:
She bit into the claw and chewed thoughtfully while gazing upon the falling snow. Outsiders declared success, but she hung her head in shame. Store-bought bear claws would be better than these flaccid, flavorless pastries. The almond filling had evaporated into the dough, which was too chewy, too dense, and tasted primarily of unsalted butter. It wasn't worth finishing. End game: Bears 2; Vikings 0.
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