Brioche: The bread of life

Passport & Plate - Chinoise Brioche

France | Monday, February 23, 2015 | 3 photos

Dough
400-500 g flour
50 g sugar
2 eggs
1 packet of yeast
60 g melted butter
pinch of salt
Custard
500 ml of milk
80 g sugar;
2 egg yolks
2 spoons of cornstarch
A vanilla bean or powered vanilla bean
Icing
200 g powder sugar
cap full of vanilla extract
milk

How to prepare this recipe
Dough
Mix yeast and a spoon of the sugar into the milk. Mix and let the yeast activate.Put remaining ingredients in a mixing bowl with a hook attachment. Knead all ingredients together for 10 mins adding more flour if necessary. Dough is done when it stars to form a smooth glossy ball.Put in a large buttered bowl and cover with a damp towel. let sit for 2 hours or until it has doubled in size.Once dough has doubled, punch it down and roll it out into a rectangle. Spread the cooled custard just missing the edges. Roll length wise and cut into equal parts. Place rolls into buttered dish and let rise for another 1 or 2. The custard will spill out. Place excess on top of rolls and it will seep down as they rise. After second rising place into a 350 degree oven and bake for 30 mins or until golden brown, Let cool a bit before adding the icing.
Custard
Place milk and sugar into a sauce pan over medium heat. Mix a slurry of the reserved milk, egg yolks and cornstarch. Add it to milk before it reaches a boil and whisk constantly until think. Take off heat and add vanilla. Let cool.
Icing
Mix all ingredients together until smooth and thick

The story behind this recipe
Summer 1999 was my first time abroad. I traveled with my mom to connect with what was left of her deceased father’s family. On the way, we passed the house where my great-great grandfather was born. He was the man I was named after; George Amie Maginel. We drove up to our family's house and tethered to the red tile roof was a sign “ Welcome to your ancestor's village”. I have been back to that village-Tramont Lassus, many times. One thing never changes when I am with my French family. Every morning, I wake up to my cousin making coffee and chatting with her mom around a tiny square wooden table eating Chinoise Brioche. Breakfast lasts hours as we chat and glance through century old cookbooks writing down recipes. As we sit cows would moo, a rooster would crow, and neighbors would pop their heads in the window to say "bonjour". All of this while eating brioche buns filled with pastry cream with mounds of glistening glaze atop each one. All of the sense from my ancestors village mixed into a morning roll.

Another trip, I traveled with both of my parents. A week in Tramont Lassus to see my mom’s family and a week in Istanbul to meet my father’s. First to France where I stuffed my suitcase full of chinoise brioche. Unfortunately, our stay in Istanbul was less successful. My father, not having been in the country for years didn’t realize he picked a beautiful hotel in a food desert. The expensive neighborhood boasted Turk Khavesi (coffee) next door at $25. After walking miles at a time looking for something to eat we went back to the hotel and ripped into the brioche. It wasn’t pretty ravishing this fine food but, we laughed at each other at the absurdity of it all. I was able to have a few amazing meals in Turkey, but halfway through the week I ate something that gave me food poisoning. If I didn’t have the brioche, I would have been completely malnourished, and not able to take the medicine my dad’s cousin had bought me. I think this magical bread saved my life.