Passionata
A grand beginning to an obsession with passion fruit
Today, our assignment was to make a passionata — a passion fruit-flavored entremets (on-trah-may) or mousse cake. If you, like me, have never heard of entremets before, they are apparently all the the rage in Europe and encompass an enormous variety of cakes that feature one or more layers of mousse. In contrast to traditional cakes, entremets afford a much wider variety of flavors, shapes, and absolutely mind-blowing designs (just google “entrements” to see what I mean!)
Our passionata would consist of 3 key layers:
A coconut dacquoise base (remember those meringue/nut flour discs from yesterday?)
A layer of passion fruit bavarian
A passion fruit gelée glaze
Since we’re all well-versed in dacquoise from our adventure yesterday, let’s talk about layers 2 and 3.
Layer 2: Bavarian
A bavarian (as defined by Chef ) is any combination of custard, gelatin1, flavoring, and a lightener (e.g. whipped cream). The result is a flavorful but delicate mousse that, once frozen and set, can then set out at normal refrigeration temperatures. For our passion fruit bavarian, we’d be starting with a crème anglaise base lightened with whipped cream.
Making the bavarian isn’t terribly complicated, but it is very sensitive to textures and temperatures. For example, the gelatin must be added to the crème anglaise2 while it’s still hot but not boiling3, since the gelatin must be melted but denatures and looses its setting ability if it reaches a temperature higher than 212˚F/100˚C. Once the gelatin is fully incorporated, the passion fruit puree can then be added. This mixture must then be cooled until it’s just below room temperature. Too warm and it will melt the whipped cream. Too cold and the gelatin will start to set, and the whipped cream won’t incorporate properly. Once cool, the whipped cream is folded in (sacrificing a large dollop of whipped cream first), and the entire liquid mixture is poured into an acetate-lined mold with a dacquoise disc at the bottom and frozen.
Phew! See, simple right?
Layer 3: Gelée
Fortunately, layer 3 is much simpler: it’s basically just passion fruit puree mixed with gelatin to produce a pourable mixture that will set into a solid, semi-clear jelly layer when frozen. Again, incorporating the gelatin is a bit of a faff since your puree must be hot, but not boiling. Traditionally you only heat 1/3 of the total puree, melt the gelatin into this, then use the remaining puree to cool the mixture to juuuust the right temperature before pouring. Too hot, and your glaze won’t set fast enough and may even melt the frozen mousse below it. Too cold and it won’t properly flow and coat the top of the cake.
Want to see what all of this work gets you in the end? I present, my very first attempt at a passionata:
The flavor in this cake is incredible! The sweet-sharpness of the passion fruit is perfectly offset by the rich creaminess of the mousse. It has lots of flavor but still manages to feel light (I may have consumed 3 pieces in a single sitting 😬). The toasted coconut along the edge adds a surprising amount of flavor and the gelée glaze provides the perfect POP! of passionfruit punch.
My cake was good but far from the best in class today. All that weird texture on the top of the cake? Courtesy of the freezer fan because I put my cake too high up in the freezer. Also, my gelée should ideally be a touch thicker to produce a nice, even layer. My coconut coating could have been neater and thicker — Chef recommended that I consider blow torching the side of the frozen cake so that the shredded coconut would stick better. My bavarian was spot-on in terms of taste and texture though, and Chef complemented my simple but elegant decorations on top!
For those curious, here’s what a nicer, more even layer of glaze should look like (courtesy of one of my classmates):
Gelatin is both fascinating and disgusting. We use two different forms in class: a powder that must be hydrated into a weird gummy bear-esque mess and sheets that must be hydrated, the wrung out like a towel before being melted.
Crème anglaise deserves its own post since it is a) supremely delicious, b) an absolute staple in pastry-making, and c) famously finicky to get right. For now, suffice to say that crème anglaise is a custard made from eggs, sugar, and milk/cream that is cooked to the nappe stage, strained, and cooled.
Crème anglaise (unlike pastry cream) should never be boiled, since it’s not stabilized by corn starch. If you try to boil crème anglaise, you’ll end up making a weird, sweet scrambled egg mess.