Bugnes: A French Dessert

bugnes

Grabbing the plastic bag that I had prepared the night before, I left early in the morning to my friend Annie's house. (Annie is my friend who is 91, though says she is 92 because she is closer to 92 than 91.) Annie told me to come early, and what to bring to make Bugnes. Bugnes, like oreillettes are similar to beignets, or dough-nuts, though without yeast or any self rising agents… other than eggs.

Annie is a wonderful cook, as Sacha has reminded me many times over, "…Women Annie's age really know how to cook. Honestly mom, they can take a plain head of lettuce, put it on a plate and it taste like a million bucks." I always feel so reassured about my cooking skills after a conversation like that. Once, he went on and on about how Annie's "green beans" were the best he ever had in his life. I asked him if they were so different from the ones I made. But before he could answer I said, "…shhhhhht, forget about it, I don't want to know."

bugnes 

I put the plastic bag full of flour, sugar, eggs, and oil on Annie's table. She had her apron on and handed me one. Annie placed a big bowl on the table, open the flour sack, pouring half of it into the mixing bowl. Quickly her hands moved at lightening speed as she whipped the other ingredients into the bowl. 

Clearing my throat, I said, "Annie, Annie remember I want to LEARN how to make Bugnes, can you tell me your recipe first?" She pointed, then wiggled her floured finger towards the kitchen drawer, "There! Over there… yes that drawer, see it?"

Looking through her stack, of neatly printed scratch pieces of papers, I found it.

  • 500 grams of flour
  • a Pinch of salt
  • Two soup spoons of sugar
  • Two soup spoons of rum
  • Two eggs
  • 100 ml of of oil (and a bottle of oil for deep frying.)
  • 50 ml of milk

Glancing at the list of ingredients and looking at what she was mixing in the bowl, I said, "Annie it says here, Two soup spoons of sugar…" but before I could finish my sentence, she added, "Yes, I know, but my way is better."
Annie knew the recipe by heart… had twink-ed it by heart too, and knew it well. I grabbed a pen and started to scribble down what she was doing:

  • Pour half a bag of flour into a large bowl
  • a teaspoon of salt
  • stir with a fork to blend.
  • In a pan, melt 50 grams of butter, add 100 ml of fresh cream, do not boil, melt slowly.
  • Take it off the burner, add two heaping spoonfuls of sugar, pour it over the pan, if another spoonful worth pours over the spoon that is okay too.
  • Stir until creamy.
  • Add two, or three, or four soup spoons of COGNAC (at this point I said, "Hey Annie that isn't Rum, its Cognac. I thought at the bakery they used Orange blossom water?" Annie didn't even bat an eye she kept at her task she said between spoonfuls, "Orange water is cheaper than alcohol that is why the bakery uses it. Cognac has better flavor than rum."
  • Lick the spoon before putting it into the sink.
  • Crack the two eggs into the flour. Stir it then add the butter/cream sugar mixture into the bowl.
  • Mix with a spoon and eventually use your hand to combine.
  • Knead the mixture until it bounces back with elasticity.
  • Form it into a ball.
  • Let it set for two hours.

Bugnes

I kneaded the dough. While it was rising she talked about what it was like living in France during WWII. I love her stories about her past. Two hours later the dough was double in size.

Annie handed me an empty wine bottle. "Inventive rolling pin, isn't it?"
I rolled out the dough, as thin as paper.

In her earlier years, Annie was a hat-maker, she has a good eye for detail. She sliced the rolled out dough into a perfect rectangle. Then Annie cut long strips down the rectangle, two inch wide. She then cut each strip into diamond like shape, and slit each diamond shape down the middle. (Why, oh why didn't I take my camera, it would have been so easy to show you instead of trying to describe it!) Then she tucked the top of the diamond into the slit and pulled it through.

Annie made four to my one. Then she stopped, and said, "Okay you need to learn, go ahead and do the rest." She watched me with an eagle eye. Letting me pretend I could do it as well as she did. Though after making several of them I did get the swing of it.

We deep fried the Bugnes (they fry quickly, several seconds on each side.) Then we let them drain on a paper towel, and sprinkled powered sugar to them.

Photos: Bugnes: A French classic during February.

Note: : A re-post due to a technical problem with my bloghost, TYPEPAD. But at least I was able to post something, at last, and not break my ongoing record of blogging everyday.



Comments

34 responses to “Bugnes: A French Dessert”

  1. A friend brought me some of these today!

  2. thanks for the recipe, will give it a go definately…..how lucky you are to get a lesson like that

  3. corey,
    i hope and pray when you write your book…that you include a whole chapter of annie stories. she sounds like a wonderful woman that every young woman needs in their life. it is awesome that you met and have stayed friends with her for so long. a relationship to be envious of, in a good way, of course. 🙂

  4. Corey — Being new to your blog, I’m glad for the re-post and the recipe.
    I’m also glad you have Annie in your life. In a recent letter to my own Annie — my ninety year old friend, Rose, who is also Greek — I lamented on how much I must have missed from not having a Greek mother-figure living near me — since in my experience, the keepers of family heritage and tradition are passed on through women. Glimpses like today’s post confirm the truth of my lament.
    As much as I enjoy your beautiful photography, please know that your descriptive words painted today’s recipe and process perfectly.

  5. Yummy, I’m going to try them! You have to love a boy Sacha’s age that can admire experience and wisdom. I’ve said it before, he’s going to make some lucky girl very happy…and I am sure she will not be as good a cook as you.

  6. Ed in Willows

    Maybe you could cut some cloth the same way and take pictures showing how to fold those

  7. Cynthia @Beatnheart

    drolling as I type. Oh wow, to eat food like this, to be in France instead of America, to live that kind of life, I am in the wrong time zone. what time is the Brocante tommorrow…let’s bring some of these along.

  8. Always a delight to hear about Annie. Thank you for sharing her with us! Also, thanks for the recipe. Your yogurt cake was wonderful made it yesterday.

  9. Merisi, Vienna

    Dear Corey and Annie,
    I enjoyed rereading about your bugnes session immensely! You tempt me to try my hand at them. 😉
    The bugnes also evoke sweet memories of my sister. My mother used to bake something similar, which runs by the name “pig ears”. My newlywed sister one fine day announced to her husband that she was going to make pig ears for dinner and he was very excited about the prospect. Home came the husband, out came the pig ears, all finely dusted with powdered sugar. My brother in law looked at the sugary delights in surprise and then asked, “Where is the choucroute?” – turns out HIS mother served pig ears as salty side dish with choucroute garnie!

  10. Franca Bollo

    oy … my butt got bigger just reading this.

  11. I remember this recipe from before! It looks just as good as I remember…. I don’t think I would ever be confident enough to try it. I think I’ll just enjoy looking at the photos again and imagine being in Annies kitchen with you!

  12. Oh smooch to you, this recipe is wonderful and the Annie version even better. Lick the spoon, don’t all bakers do that? That was good, I laughed out loud.

  13. Happy to see you here today. This recipe looks so good, but I would want Annie to come and make them for me. Please send her my way, thanks!

  14. I thought you had made a typo when you wrote ‘powered sugar’ but now I think that is what you really meant. I’m definitely only using powered sugar from now on. Sounds like a fat-burning sugar variety which is what I will need after making Annie’s Bugnes.
    (How do you say Bugnes? I can only make a sound like ‘bugs nests’ and I’m sure that is NOT right)

  15. This sounds a lot like Norwegian fattigman (poor man’s cookie). Grandma taught Mom how to make them. The recipe calls for cardamom—but the cognac sounds like a great idea! There is a similar Icelandic cookie called something like Klinger. Funny how different countries have their own version of the same dessert.

  16. My mom was making them for me! How I miss her!
    in Russian they called ‘hvorost’ or ‘hrustiki’ because of the crunchy sound they make when you bite them.
    Corey and Annie, you reminded me about them. Now I’m thinking, maybe I should make them today 😉
    oh, and my mom was adding cognac or vodka, they both worked fine.

  17. Different shape, but reminds me of the piping hot beignets at Café du Monde in New Orleans’ French Quarter (LE Vieux Carré).

  18. joanne nixon

    my family is of polish descent and have made these wonderful delights…they are called cruszciki in polish…we also called them angel wings because they look just like wings and taste heavenly….hugs to annie….

  19. My Grandmother and Annie were born from the same cloth.
    I would sit for hours and listen to my Grandmother speak of the war. Her village, a brother dying alone at the Russian front. The story of a favorite sister who liked to ride her bicycle and the allied bomb that hit the bridge on that fateful day, Sophie was her name. My Grandmother sought refuge in her baking and found happiness in simple things. Measuring sugar with her soup spoon and rolling dough with a bottle. She did so late into her life..

  20. Thank You for telling how to make them. I am gonna try it out.
    Thank God for our elders, we need to listen more to them. You are blessed to have such a sweet friend.
    Betsy

  21. Brenda DeLaune Brown

    Kathie B: Remembers this too! Sounds much like Biegnets!
    Corey: I certainly loved the post, it was a first time reading it!

  22. jend’isère

    and you can reblog this every February to come. Merci to you & Annie!

  23. We make a similar cookie for the last feast before the easter lent starts. We call them “faworki” (I guess from the word “favour” or “favourite”) or chrust (twigs). They are a bit time consuming to make but well worth it. Delicious!

  24. yum yum yum, perfect for Valentines. Would u dip them into hot choc ? Learning from the master in her Kitchen – it would definitely make a tv show. How about it for a format, and annie a TV star at 91/2 ?! Jxx

  25. These look absolutely sinful – I wish I had one in front of me right now. I love beignets, so, I am sure I would love bugnes. What is there not to love?
    I love hearing about Annie. She reminds me so much of my own grandmother. Thank you for sharing her with us so often.

  26. Merci sweet Corey, ευχαριστώ dearest Annie… x

  27. Alison Murray Whittington

    I see now the great secret to French thinness…
    … they work off all the calories in the food preparation!
    My mouth is watering.

  28. Mamma made these when I was little – a memory I had forgotten! Whenever she made chicken and dumplins (a wonderful southern treat) she would also make these. However, she omitted the sugar and rum 🙂 Some she dusted with confectioner’s sugar and some with cinnamon sugar.
    I agree that when you write your book, I am hoping for an Annie’s stories section. They are just delightful!

  29. Reminds me of a recipe from nearly 40 years ago which I recently tried to make. It was called simply German Yeast Dough and called for a pound of this, a little of that and some of this. That’s how things were done. It all made sense 40 years ago. Anyway, I made it the best I could remember for the holidays. My son actually remembered it and said it tasted just like it used to, and I agreed. Much to my suprise.

  30. snippets of thyme

    These make me crave french beignets. We’re going to New Orleans in March but it would be fun to learn how to make these adorable ones!

  31. AmyKortuem

    They look so delicious – even more so because of the friendship behind the making of them.
    I have a 92-year-old friend, too. Her name is Ethel and she lives next door. She’s barely 4 and a half feet tall. But she’s fiercely spunky. Once I went over to ask her for cooking advice and she handed me a cookbook and told me, “Look in here, don’t ask me.”
    I love Ethel.

  32. Michelle Riley

    I want to hear Annie’s stories about living in France during WWII- any chance you will blog about those one day?

  33. We make something very similar in Italy, we call them “chiacchiere” (chats) for Carnival……..

  34. Rebecca from the pacific northwest

    1. Take your camera next time! Please! I’d love to see all the steps involved. Except the two hours of rising.
    2. Annie stories of WWII in France: don’t keep them to yourself! More fascinating to me even than brocante or decorating or food stories!! How about a week of Annie Stories? Or just sprinkled in would be lovely.

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