Who's That Nibbling on My Roof?
I've always been fascinated by "Hansel and Gretel" and the concept of a house made entirely of gingerbread, spun sugar, frosting, candy canes and sweet treats.But, thinking it would be too difficult, I didn't tackle my first gingerbread house until I was in culinary school, lo these many years ago. I learned quickly if you have the right tools, the right recipes and a little patience, it's a snap. But some planning is required, as you'll see later on.
Each student was "strongly encouraged" to make at least one traditional house as a present for benefactors of the school before starting on a personal project. I decided my take-home effort would be a three-sided Santa's kitchen.
Mad as a Hatter
It was a stroke of luck that Christmas happened to coincide with the pastry portion of my training, because in that class I learned the more advanced culinary art of sugar work -- perfect for a gingerbread house!My instructor was a culinary genius and I hung on his every word. He was madder than a hatter -- we never knew which personality would show up to teach us on any given day -- but he was a culinary genius.
He came from a hotel background where nothing in the pastry shop was wasted. Cake crumbs mixed with melted butter became the crusts for cheesecakes. Stale cake was turned into cabinet pudding. Day-old brioche was transfomed into bread pudding. And baguettes became breadcrumbs or croutons.
He taught us to make marshmallows, lollipops, and how to dip chocolates and make the little squiggles on top to tell them apart.
He was a true master chef, excelling in every area of the kitchen. He could flute a mushroom or bone a chicken leg in the wink of an eye, and his garde manger work -- carved fruits and vegetables, ice sculptures and aspic-covered delights -- was legendary.
Under his tutelage, I learned how to pull sugar into ribbons and lifelike roses. He showed me how to gently puff into a glass rod to expand the wad of sugar on the end, the way a glass blower would, to create hollow, fragile apples, pears and swans. He taught me how to work with gum paste, pastillage and couverture chocolate. It opened up a whole new world for me. I found I had a fair amount of talent for sculpting edible works of art, and all of these projects were perfect for the project I had in mind.
Santa's Kitchen
My Santa's kitchen had gingerbread wainscoting and hardwood floors. The walls were painted with food-coloring holly berries, and the shelves above the dry sink held a blue book for "good boys" and a pink book for "good girls." A pitcher and vase full of Christmasy flowers sat next to a canister of flour, and sugar lay spilled on the floor. A red-and-green braided rug lay under a large kitchen table whose one short leg was propped up with a book of matches.An elf, perched atop a stool, rolled out a batch of dough with a rolling pin nearly as tall as himself. A Santa-size chair with a plush cushion was off to one corner and, nearby, a smiling cat sat on his haunches offering a bow-bedecked wedge of cheese at Mr. Mouse's door.
The wall calendar had the days crossed off, making it plain this was Christmas Eve and, from the clock pointing to a quarter of midnight, almost Christmas day.
I had been so wrapped up in the creation of Santa's kitchen, I was hardly aware that it had grown to a 3-foot monstrosity. How was I going to get this home in one piece? Here's the answer.
Click on the link below for a pattern. Save it to your desktop and print the actual-size patterns.
