It's a good thing that there's chocolate in this post because I need to get serious here. Fear has reared its ugly head into my brainstorming and planning my nameless bakery. I know I'm not working fast enough or moving forward at even a decent pace, but my feet are dragging.
The problem is that I've been thinking. I've been thinking a lot. The question I keep coming back to is just how many cakes and cookies would I have to sell to afford the rental of a kitchen space or a store front, on top of the cost of living? These are important, scary thoughts that lead to panic and doubt. Recently, I'm often on the cusp of breathing into a paper bag. I kid you not. Thus the need for copious, ridiculous amounts of chocolate.
My fear is genuine and with reason. I have no husband or partner bringing in an income to cover the home bills for those years where I am making very little and have invested everything into a small business. So, you know what? It's just plain scary.
Just think about it. It's scary.
My nameless bakery is going to happen, but it's scary!
When I brought up this point with my business coach, he looked at me like I was an alien from outer space. I couldn't read why I got that look, but it was definitely a puzzled and confused look he was sending my way.
I've been left wondering again.
Am I over-thinking this? Most definitely, but how can I not think and rethink and re-rethink?
Maybe my doubts are just more ways for my inner self to avoid facing my dream. I think this is what my business coach thinks. I need to just do it. I guess I will figure things out as I go. I guess the numbers will be less scary when I start guesstimating what the numbers should look like for year 1, 2, 3, etc.
It's a good thing there's chocolate.
To inspire me as I think about my nameless bakery, I baked these pots de crème, adapted from Aran Goyoaga's gorgeous new book. I could spend hours just looking at her book (or at her blog for that matter). I want to live in it. I want to eat everything in it. However, given the level of crisis at hand, I opted to start with one of her more chocolaty recipes.
The original recipe was made with hazelnut butter, but given I'm allergic to hazelnuts, I substituted it with sesame butter. Chocolate and sesame work really well together, but I think the coconut milk used to prepare the custard came through more than the sesame. That being said, I'd still make this again because they were super chocolaty and luxuriously smooth. Perfect temporary fix for those moments of panic.
Disclosure: I was provided with a free copy of Small Plates Sweet Treats to review, but my opinions in this post are my own.
Chocolate sesame pots de crèmePublished: January 28th, 2013, Cook time: 40 minutes
Makes 6 ramekins
- 500 mL coconut milk (I prefer Thai Kitchen for its flavor)
- 1 vanilla bean, split lengthwise, seeds scraped
- 1 large egg
- 2 large egg yolks
- 50 grams raw coconut sugar
- 2 tbsp sesame butter (tahini)
- 60 grams milk chocolate (I used Cacao Barry 40%)
- 60 grams dark chocolate (I used Cacao Barry 58%)
- toastsed sesame seeds for serving
- Preheat the oven to 350°F.
- In a medium saucepan, combine the coconut milk, vanilla bean/seeds, and stir over medium heat until it simmers.
- Meanshiile, in a medium bowl, whisk together the egg, egg yolks, coconut sugar and sesame butter (try to get whisk out the lumps).
- Combine the chocolates in another medium bowl.
- When the milk mixture is steamy, pour the hot milk over the chocolate. Let it sit 1 minute, then whisk it slowly until the chocolate is melted and the ganache is smooth, then pour this mixture over the whisked egg mixture to temper them.
- Strain the mixture into a large, 4 cup measuring cup or a bowl with a spout preferably. Then divide the chocolate custard between 6 ramekins.
- Place the ramekins in a deep roasting pan and fill the pan with hot water so that it reaches halfway up the ramekins.
- Bake the custards for 40 minutes or until the centers are completely set. Cool to room temperature before serving topped with a sprinkling of toasted sesame seeds.