A Pair of Paco Torreblanca Desserts

When I heard the English edition of Paco Torreblanca: The Book was out, I developed what can only be described as a fixation. W very generously offered to buy me a copy, possibly in part to stem my incessant babbling about the book, the man, and his sweet works of edible art (see here for all the news) - in case anyone's wondering, I am well aware that I am an outrageously lucky girl. Since it arrived, my every waking moment has been consumed by visions of isomalt bells and the hydroscopic properties of trimoline/invert sugar (useful for everything from preventing crystallization and lowering the freezing point of ice-cream to stabilizing the emulsion-suspension that is ganache and ensuring its extraordinarily smooth texture).

If Spain is indeed the new restaurant frontier, it's also where the whole concept of dessert cuisine has really taken off. Pastry geeks need no introduction to hypermodern joints like Talaia and Espai Sucre or the celebrated It likes of Oriol Balaguer and Jordi Butrón or legends such as maestro heladero, Angelo Corvitto. But if there's one man who can be called the padre of the contemporary Spanish pastry scene, it's Francisco Torreblanca.

As it's not a book written with the domestic kitchen in mind, you'll have to do the math where quantities are concerned, as well as read between the cheffy shorthand lines when following instructions - caveats that apply with any book of such a genre. Having got that out of the way, it's a page-turning read of incandescent ideas, headily mixing vibrant re-thinks of classics with searingly original creations. It's also a heartbreakingly handsome volume thanks to the photography of Francesc Guillamet (best known for his work on the elBulli books). The search for balance, both in terms of flavour and aesthetic, informs many of the desserts. From the purity of line to the meticulous attention to detail, the creations often offer a glimpse of the chef's professed affinity for Japanese culture and sensibility. What's more, the tome is thoughtfully accompanied by a softcover book. Containing all the recipes as well as detailed construction diagrams, with laminated smear-proof pages, it's intended as a "working book" to be brought into the kitchen so you can keep the exquisite hardcover edition in pristine, un-besmirched condition - how considerate is that?

Evidently, much to W's amusement/resignation, ownership has yet to forestall my chatty cathy repetitiveness. But enough already; the proof of the pudding is in the eating.

Marronier

Not that I know squat about kadō, but there's something about the linear construct of the Marronier that reminds of ikebana. A rich center of chestnut crème caramel sits between pillowy bavarois layers flavoured with chestnut, milk chocolate and rum, the whole supported by a disc of chestnut ladyfinger sponge. Once set, a dark chocolate glaze is applied. To finish, an ingot of crema de frutas de marron (chestnut cream paste), caramel-coated "stems" of chestnut and hazelnut, and a dab of gold leaf. I couldn't find sprigs of fennel blossoms to candy - the final touch - but I don't think the end result looks too shabby for it.

El Bizcocho de Calabaza

Think pumpkin seed oil, olive oil, goat cheese, pumpkin, pumpkin seeds, apricots and balsamic vinegar - Have the myriad soup or salad or other small plate/antipasti/tapas/meze possibilities taken shape in your mind's eye? Dessert certainly didn't occur to me. Yet here it is, in the guise of pumpkin seed oil and olive oil sponge cake, goat's cheese mousse, pumpkin sorbet, pumpkin seed brittle, apricot cream paste (essentially a pate de fruit), "couscous" made by sauteing cake crumbs in butter, caramelized balsamic vinegar reduction...alone, each of these preparations may seem a bit eccentric, but on the same plate, they make perfect sense. As much sense as had the featured ingredients met a savoury fate. The contrast in textures and harmony of flavours make this unexpected combination work. It's also another study in balance, with each element subtly flavoured and not excessively sweet so the final impression is of order, not dissonance.