If I were to credit France for one thing, aside from contributing to the expansion of my waistline and deteriorating my English, it would be the blossoming of my culinary palette.  I am guilty of having grown up eating frozen dinners, peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches daily for lunch and thinking of vegetables as something only vegetarian hippies ate. Yes, I was a gastronomical mess. 

If there was any “green stuff” on my pasta dish, I wouldn’t eat it. If my mom tried to sneak any fruit other than banana into my cereal, I would push my bowl aside.  In my defense, my parents never forced me to try new things, quite possibly because I was too difficult and it was more of a headache to coax me into eating than to just let it go. Still, I was the girl who brought PB&J with her to lunch even in high school.

It wasn’t until I came to Paris and met my husband that I realized I was either going to starve or balloon up like a whale from too many baguettes if I didn’t push myself to try new things. What would he think if I told him I didn’t like anything he prepared and had to hold my nose in front of Camembert? Surely, he would have written me off immediately.  They say it takes trying something at least ten times before you develop a taste for it – wine, cheese, men (just kidding) – and fortunately for me, that seemed to be accurate. 

Among the dishes I tested and incorporated into my diet, my favorite was the sweet Mont Blanc, a mountainous cake composed of puréed chestnuts and whipped cream with a meringue base that I tried at the famous Café Angelina. One of Angelina’s specialties, the Mont Blanc features an ingredient I had never heard of nor tasted before – crème de marrons (chestnut cream). It’s a delicious sweet paste  made of puréed chestnuts that you’ll often see on the list of ingredients at crêperies all over France. Ok, so it’s not asparagus, but it was new for me and is now among my favorite spreads.

When I was thinking of a recipe to make this week to share with you all, I went to the store, bought a can of Clément Faugier’s crème de marrons, (whose recipe, design and product hasn’t changed in over 100 years) and sent my inquiry blazing into the twittersphere. There it was, a suggestion from Little Miss Cupcake for crème de marrons brownies. I used the best baking dark chocolate I could get my hands on, followed the instructions meticulously and waited impatiently by the oven.

Imagine my extreme disappointment when they came out thinner than any normal brownie should be, dry and ugly.  Their only redeeming quality was the layer of crème de marrons that detracted from the dryness of the cake. Yet another brownie recipe gone to waste. I have repeatedly failed at every brownie attempt and have not figured out what I’m doing wrong. This is where you all come in.  Email or leave us a comment witj your recipes, tips and tricks for good old fashioned moist, chewy brownies and I’ll put them to the test.

I’ve mastered the art of trying new things and no longer hold my nose at a plate of pungent cheeses (at least, not in front of people anyway) but now it is time to perfect my baking. 

Can you help?

Shoot me an email at 'contact AT lostincheeseland DOT COM'

Photo courtesy of ODelices.com