2015/12/10

Tuesdays with Dorie BwJ: Parmesean Puffs & Brie in Brioche

I really should have known better. All the warning signs were there. The longing looks. The thinly veiled comments.

The seeds were planted the first time we saw the house. They were cemented the day we closed. 

Each time he looked at the...


...vaulted ceilings in the living room it would go something like this:

Him: "That would be a great space for a big Christmas tree."

Me: "As long as it's not too big - eight feet would be great."

Him: Silence.

Fast forward to Thanksgiving weekend... The Dude and Runner girl go Christmas tree shopping.

Him: The delivery man just brought the tree

Me: Why, didn't it fit on the car?

Silence.

Him: I need you to move the furniture so the tree can slide in the patio door. Oh, and you are going to need to help me bring it in.

I jump out of my chair and run to the back yard.

Me: Honey, this doesn't look like eight feet. Did you go to Sequoia National Forest to cut this down?

Him: The guy at the tree farm said it would fit. I didn't realize it was so tall.

Me: Oh, was it already cut down?

Him: No, we cut it down.

Me: So, you had to stand next to it, crawl underneath it to cut it down and you still didn't realize that it was two times taller than you are? I am confused.

Him: It was on a hill.

I look at my daughter and ask why she didn't act as the voice of reason. She shrugs and gives me the "since when am I in charge of keeping him in line" look and walks away.

We bring Monster Tree in the house and eventually get it into the stand. All twelve feet of it...The tree knows that I am not a fan. I have an eerie feeling it is going to come crawling up the stairs after me in the middle of like - kind of like that girl coming out of the well in The Grudge.

Sure enough - as soon as The Dude goes down cellar to look for more lights, Monster Tree decides that it no longer wants to stay upright and comes flying at me.

An emergency trip to the store for a tree stand soon followed, with the warning that if a new stand wasn't found, the tree was going outside and wouldn't be allowed back inside until it was at least two feet shorter.

True story.

A larger tree stand was procured. The tree has been behaving ever since, although I still give it the side eye whenever I am too close to it.


Now, this brie in brioche was dramatic in it's own way. Melty brie topped with caramelized onions were sealed in a wall of brioche dough and baked until everything inside was nice and gooey. Slices of apple were the perfect complement.

After our battle with Monster Tree, we needed something dramatic but without the drama.

Since it was for just the three of us, I settled on a four inch wheel of brie vs. the nine inch wheel suggested in the recipe. I also dug out a ball of dough out of the freezer that was leftover from this project.  We really enjoyed this one. 


Now, I generally have a rule about deep frying (because a) the house smells for days and b) I am cleaning up grease from the crevices of the stove for weeks), but I made an exception for TWD. Essentially, scraps of puff pastry are deep fried in peanut oil and liberally covered with grated cheese - tasty, but I kept wanting powdered sugar and cinnamon.

Random picture of the daughter with her artwork.
This daughter was not involved in the tree drama. She is proud of that fact. 


This post participates in Tuesdays with Dorie. The recipe for brie in brioche can be found here.

2 comments:

  1. Did you say it was fried in Peanut Butter? I am way behind and haven't looked at the recipes but that sounds just weird! The Brie in Brioche on the other hand, divine! That is some yummy goodness, right there!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. That. Was a typo :-(
      Peanut oil was the oil of choice. But peanut butter would have been awesome...

      Delete

Hi - Thanks for stopping by. I'd love to hear from you!

Due to the high number of weirdo SPAM comments I have been receiving, I have turned comment moderation back on for the time being... Comments may show a slight delay.