My former ballet mistress once told me that the barre is a dancer’s home. No matter how much time was spent on a stage or center floor, rehearsals and classes began and often ended there, with dancers performing the steps and stretches that were learned from the very moment we stepped into the studio for the first time.

I loved that no matter how great or awful I had performed that day, the barre was always there for me, waiting in the wings whenever I wanted it, offering nothing but comfort and familiarity. On the floor, I’d frantically go over the new combinations – a flurry of microscopic steps, pirouettes and grand jetes – trying desperately to match mind and body to an accompanist, who played perfect, staccato notes with his piano.

Dancing at the barre was a different story. Muscle memory and music would take over, while my mind took a backseat. It was all like sliding into a buttery leather recliner that you’ve spent years coaxing to hug your body perfectly. The pianist played in tune with my every perfect tendu. One flick of his wrist for a high note matched my frappe. A bellowing series of notes, low and slow, matched my plie developpe. Nothing else existed. It really was home.

Over the years, the dance studio would be replaced by the kitchen, with the stove taking the place of the barre.

This is my home now.

This becomes especially true when the task at hand is baking, performed in the wee hours, when it seems you’re the only person in the world not tucked into a warm bed and dreaming of good things. Whatever tasks performed during the day become distant memories, whatever responsibilities lie ahead don’t exist. Muscle memory takes over, and with its help I execute the choreography that I’ve performed so many times before: A scoop of flour added to a sifter. Heavy cream poured with both hands into a measuring cup. My thumb and forefinger, poised to clap imaginary castanets, instead pinch salt into a mixing bowl full of dry ingredients.

The musical accompaniment is rhythmic. A scraping sound from the stainless steel spoon against the Nutella jar. The soft, crunch crunch, crunching as my chef’s knife rocks against a board littered with toasted hazelnuts. The muted pops and subtle hissing from the oven while baking the pan of Gianduia brownies. It all falls into place, like music notes sprinkled over a crisp, white page, with my immediate world as the orchestra. It’s a different dance, but it produces the same warm feeling I used to have while at the ballet barre. It feels like home. (Click on “Read the rest of this entry” for recipe)

GIANDUIA BROWNIES
Adapted from Gourmet magazine (found on Epicurious)

• 1 1/4 cups hazelnuts (about 6 1/4 ounces)
• 4 ounces fine-quality bittersweet chocolate (not unsweetened)
• 3 ounces fine-quality milk chocolate
• 1 stick (1/2 cup) unsalted butter
• 1/4 cup Nutella (chocolate-hazelnut spread)
• 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
• 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
• 1/2 cup sugar
• 2 large eggs

PROCEDURE:

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees and butter and flour a 9-inch square baking pan, knocking out excess flour.

2. Toast and skin hazelnuts, and pulse them in a food processor until they are coarsely ground (bits should be about 1/8 inch).

3. Chop chocolates into small pieces and in a double boiler or a metal bowl set over a saucepan of barely simmering water, melt chocolates with butter and Nutella, stirring occasionally until smooth. Remove top heat.

4. While chocolates are melting, sift together flour, baking powder, and a pinch salt in a large bowl. Whisk sugar into chocolate mixture until thoroughly combined. Add eggs, whisking until mixture is glossy and smooth. Stir in flour mixture and hazelnuts until just combined.

5. Pour batter into baking pan and bake in middle of oven 35 to 40 minutes, or until a tester comes out with few, moist crumbs adhering to it (you don’t want it to be completely dry!). Cool brownies in pan on a rack and cut into squares. To store: Layer brownies between sheets of wax paper in an airtight container. Will keep for 5 days.

– Cynthia Furey

This entry was posted on Monday, April 13th, 2009 at 7:32 pm and is filed under Baking/desserts, Cake, In the kitchen. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.