It's a pretty well-known fact that I inherited my insatiable sweet tooth (and snacking tenancies) from my father. When I discovered that I would be treated with a Father's Day visit from my parents, I immediately got to work, swapping my cook's hat for that of a baker -- admittedly, a more familiar character for me to play. In keeping with the season, I first decided to whip up some fresh strawberry ice cream. Perhaps that would have been enough, but my inner baker had been pushed to the back burner for too long of late, and she stubbornly insisted I do more. What would satisfy my poor, neglected oven? And what could go with a sweet, creamy ice cream? If you're thinking profiteroles, you're absolutely right. Time to face down the puff pastry challenge.
The ice cream was easy enough to pull together, as the recipe I used did not include egg yolks. Sugar, dairy, and a bit of food-processing later, I had a milky mixture sitting in the refrigerator awaiting its time in the ice cream machine.
Go, chopper, go!
With the main event chilling away, I began my prep for the puffs. The recipe I used suggested using a hand mixer as an alternative to transferring from stove to mixer bowl, so I seized the opportunity to use mine -- or rather, the one I "borrowed permanently" from my mother. It's used so rarely these days, I had almost forgotten why.
